


On the Road to Somewhere

by Katef



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2019-06-13 04:06:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15355848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katef/pseuds/Katef
Summary: Post-series, Jim and Blair explore a different path to fulfilment.





	On the Road to Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Elaine, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Artifact Storage Room 3](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Artifact_Storage_Room_3) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Artifact Storage Room 3’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/artifactstorageroom3/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Story inspired to a great extent by the lyrics to the song 'Road to Nowhere' by Talking Heads.

**Part 1: Travelling men:**   
**Tucson, AZ. Early evening:**   


The small camper van pulled into the parking lot of the cheap motel and eased its way to a halt in front of the office. More compact and older than many of its bigger and more luxurious RV counterparts, yet it suited the two men sitting in the front. True, it was dusty; its bodywork betraying the many miles it had travelled; but the engine was tuned to perfection and mechanically it was as sound as the day it rolled off the production lines. And why wouldn’t it be? Because it had the best of care from the most exacting mechanic – a perfectionist with the precision and ability of which only a Sentinel would be capable. 

With a sigh of relief and satisfaction, Blair turned off the ignition, taking a moment to stretch out his arms and roll his shoulders to ease the stiffness of many hours spent behind the wheel. Turning to shoot his companion a tired smile, the expression froze on his face and changed rapidly to one of concern as he took in the drawn features and hooded eyes that met his. 

“Jeez, Jim, are you OK? Why didn’t you say something? How bad is it?” 

“What do you think, Darwin?” came the snarling response as Jim allowed his temper to be dictated by his physical discomfort yet again. “My back hurts, my leg’s the same and I’ve got the headache from Hell! Of course I’m ‘not OK’!” he added, savagely mimicking his companion’s worried tone. However, seconds later his expression softened and he sighed deeply at the hurt and guilt that once again flashed across Blair’s mobile features. 

“Look, I’m sorry, Chief. That was uncalled for,” he continued, his own guilt kicking in as he once again took out his frustration and anger on the one person who didn’t deserve it. The one person who had stuck by him through thick and thin despite every shitty remark and action Jim threw his way. Sure, Blair had made his own share of mistakes over the years, but by now Jim was convinced of the younger man’s love and his tenacious loyalty even in the face of Jim’s doubt, and trust was no longer an issue between them. 

“Take no notice of my shitty mood. I’ll be fine once we’ve booked in and I can stretch out a bit. It’s just too much time stuck in this cab, Chief. Not your fault....” 

“Oh Jim, I wish you’d said something earlier, man. We could have pulled off and had a break so you could stretch your legs. I thought because you didn’t say anything that you were happy for me to just keep going so we could get here before dark. Some Guide I am...,” and he tailed off in self-deprecation. 

“Yeah, well, after all this time on the road, I should know better, shouldn’t I Chief? But don’t sweat it, OK? Just go and check in, and let’s relax a bit before we check out the area. I’ll be fine soon, really.” 

Worry still colouring his tone, the younger man replied, “Well, if you’re sure, Jim. I won’t be long, OK?” and he climbed down from the cab and made his way to the reception desk in the small office. 

The desk was manned by a skinny kid with an acne-scarred face, nodding in time to whatever was playing through his earpiece as he concentrated on studying a chemistry textbook. 

“Hey, man, test coming up?” asked Blair with a grin, assuming that the youngster was working his way through either High School or college. Putting his book down and pulling off his headset, the kid grinned cheerfully in response. 

“Yeah, you’re right. Got exams coming up, and I want to do well enough to get out of this joint,” he said, flicking a disparaging glance around the office. “’M hoping to get accepted at Arizona U next year – if I can keep my grades up. I want to major in Science.” 

“Well, I hope everything works out for you,” replied Blair sincerely. “It’s good to have goals, and it’s a good University. 

“Anyhow, on a more mundane topic, the name’s Sandburg. I should have a reservation for a twin room?” 

Quickly scanning the register, the kid nodded. “Yep, here it is. We’ve put you in Room #35. It’s away from the road and at the end of the block so you shouldn’t get too much noise from the Fairground. ‘Course you know that the rodeo’s on, don’t you? So there might be more noise than usual. But we try to keep any performers rooming here away from regular customers,” he added with an apologetic air. 

“That’s OK, I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Blair responded soothingly. “We knew about the ‘Fiesta de los Vaqueros’, and I expect we’ll be going to watch a few of the events anyway, so no problem.” 

“Whatever turns you on, man,” the kid chuckled as he held out the room key. “If you’ll just sign in here, sir. Says you’ve already paid in advance, but if there’s anything else you need or want to know, feel free to drop by and I’ll do my best to help.” 

“Thanks, er...” “Leigh”, replied the kid with another grin. “My name’s Leigh. Have a good evening, Mr Sandburg!” 

Acknowledging the helpful young man with a grateful nod and a friendly wave, Blair made his way out of the office and returned to the camper, hoping that Jim was feeling a little better.  


\--------------------------------  


As he watched Blair’s departing back, automatically noting the slightly elevated heart rate and faint tang of distress in his Guide’s unique scent, Jim sighed again and scrubbed his hand over his face, abruptly but relatively unsuccessfully trying to expunge his bad temper and consequent guilty feelings. Sure, he had reason to be short-tempered, and he was only human after all – and not superhuman, as Blair was wont to point out. But still, he knew he had hurt the younger man again, and his conscience nagged unrelentingly at him. At times like this he still couldn’t believe his luck that Blair remained glued to his side; guiding, nurturing and supporting him, and virtually Velcroed together hip-to-hip. 

Not that Blair didn’t retaliate when pushed too far. He was no submissive doormat, and could more than hold his own in any discussion – read, argument – but he always stayed. Always. 

But they weren’t lovers. Not yet. And Jim had no idea if or when that might happen, despite half-remembered hints from Incacha all those years ago. They had been together for nearly seven years now, and he knew for sure that Blair hadn’t dated for at least the last two years. And Jim hadn’t even contemplated the notion for longer than he could remember, if you didn’t count his ill-fated dalliances with female criminals. 

So why didn’t they? Why weren’t they ‘together’ that way? For sure, Jim had no problem with gay sex. Hell, he’d had his own experiences in the army, and also in Cascade PD’s Vice Unit when occasion demanded it, and he recognised that Sandburg was a handsome and charming man. 

But perhaps that was it. He was handsome – beautiful, even, in a purely masculine way – but not the type Jim had had sex with before. Not toned and buff clones of his own type, scratching a mutual itch with no strings attached. 

No, Sandburg was special. True, he was smaller than Jim and slender; but he was compact and no weakling. And feisty as all get-out when roused. But it was the beauty that shone from within Blair that made him so very precious to Jim, and Jim was uncomfortably aware that it had taken him far too long to appreciate the fact. 

But if it was meant to be, it would happen, and Jim had no intention of jeopardising their comfortable relationship by pushing the issue either way. 

As he waited for Blair to get them checked in, he settled back in his seat and allowed his mind to roam, reliving the past three years and contemplating once again the reasons why they were here in this place so far from Cascade....  


\--------------------------  


**Three years previously: The Loft, after the badge offer:**  


Jim glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time as he waited impatiently for Blair to return from taking his mother to the airport. Still shaken from the furore sparked by her ill-conceived attempt to help her son by sending his diss to Sid Graham, Naomi had expressed her intention to leave Cascade as soon as the badge offer had been made, citing her need to process everything that had happened. For sure, she was unhappy with the idea of her beloved Blair joining the ranks of the ‘pigs’, but could hardly complain as it was due to a great extent to her own meddling. 

As far as Jim was concerned, he was finding it very hard to forgive the woman for her actions, even though he recognised that her intentions had been good. But in Jim’s opinion, the road to Hell was paved with ‘good intentions,’ and he wondered if Blair himself had actually forgiven her as he claimed he had. 

Long minutes later, by which time Jim was bitterly regretting his inability to get up and pace the loft in his impatience thanks to the still-healing damage to his knee from Zeller’s bullet, he relaxed as he finally registered Blair’s return. He grinned as he heard the younger man’s ancient Volvo approaching 852, betrayed by the wheezing and clicking of its ‘classic’ engine which always seemed to be in need of tuning. Now perhaps they could talk – even though he knew Blair would undoubtedly make some comment to the effect that Jim never ‘talked’ about anything if he could avoid it. 

This was just too important for both of them, and Jim knew himself to be more nervous than he could ever recall as he waited for Blair to confirm that he would accept Simon’s offer of a place by Jim’s side as an official partner. 

By the time Blair’s key rattled in the lock of #307, Jim had settled himself as much as possible, attempting to centre himself as Blair had tried to teach him, and grinning ruefully at the realisation of how much the younger man had rubbed off on him over the years. 

However, the grin faded as Jim scanned his roommate, noting his anxiety and the faint tang of fear tainting his normal scent. 

“Um, hey, Jim. You OK?” Blair began, as usual looking to his Sentinel’s comfort first. “The leg giving you more trouble, man? You look a bit drawn....” 

“No more than I can cope with, Chief. But by the looks of you, there’s something you want to tell me, am I right? And I don’t think it’s something I’m going to want to hear,” Jim replied grimly, already knowing that his hopes were about to be dashed. 

Biting his lower lip nervously, Blair crossed the room and sat opposite Jim, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward, holding Jim’s gaze firmly despite his haunted expression and the worry clouding his large blue eyes. 

“Look, man, first, I want to say that my decision has nothing to do with Naomi. She gave up her right to influence me when she sent the diss to Sid, so please don’t blame her for this. Just let me get this out while I can, Jim, because the gods know it’s hard for me to say, and I think it’ll be hard for you to hear. 

“I really appreciate Simon’s offer, man, more than I can say. I thought that everyone in MCU would hate me for what happened, and expected to be shunned, not welcomed back with open arms! 

“But don’t you see, Jim? It’s completely impossible for me to accept! It’s not only that my attending the academy will be difficult for all concerned, but most of the PD’s personnel think I’m a fraud, man. They’ll never accept me, even if our friends in MCU do. And just think of what Defence attorneys will make of it the first time I take the stand. They’ll have a field day, Jim. 

“And I have to tell you, man, that I’ve already been warned off in no uncertain terms by a good few of the boys in blue. And please don’t say anything, Jim,” he added hurriedly when the bigger man snarled in fury and bridled at the information. “There’s nothing you can do, man. You can’t watch my back every minute, and what’s far worse is the implication that if you pair with me, we might both fail to get the backup in the field that we need. 

“That frightens me so much, man. Not for me, but for you. It terrifies me that you could die from a bullet in the back because of me. I couldn’t bear to lose you like that. 

“And deep down, Jim, I have to say that I don’t really want to be a cop. I loved working with you, and I loved getting involved with the detective stuff. I really felt that I was helping out – doing some good, you know? But I still don’t like the idea of carrying, Jim, even though I’ve used a gun a few times since I’ve worked with you. It’s just not me. And whatever Simon thinks, I’m sure I’d have to do a token stint in uniform anyway, and how can he guarantee that we’ll end up as partners after all? I just don’t see it, man. 

“Please don’t be mad, Jim. I promise I’m not going to leave unless you tell me to go. I’ll still be here for you if you need me, even if I can’t partner you officially. We’ll work something out...” and his voice tailed off unhappily as he waited for Jim’s response. 

Reeling from the impact of Blair’s words, Jim took a while to pull himself together enough to reply with a modicum of restraint. As he felt his world crumble, his instinctive response was to yell at Blair, accusing him yet again of treachery and cowardice. But if nothing else, the traumatic events of the last few months had taught him that such a knee-jerk reaction was uncalled for and undeserved. In his heart of hearts, he realised he should have known that a badge wasn’t the answer. It was more a gesture of support for Blair rather than a feasible proposition, although if Blair had accepted it then Jim, Simon and their friends in MCU would have done their utmost to make it work. 

But common sense told him that Blair was right. And if Blair wouldn’t forgive himself if Jim should take a bullet because of a failure to get backup, then he would feel equally guilty if rogue cops should carry out their threat to endanger Blair or set him up for a fall. 

Scrubbing his face with his hands, Jim sighed deeply and looked up again to meet Blair’s anxious gaze, schooling himself for once in his life to respond with understanding and support rather than attacking his Guide for circumstances out of his control. 

“Well, Chief, I gotta say that you’ve pretty much knocked me sideways here. Before you get upset, though, I’m not going to chew you out, although I couldn’t blame you if that’s the reaction you’re expecting from me. I’ve done more than enough of that over the last few months, and for the most part, I realise now that you didn’t deserve it. And boy, was that hard to say!” he added with a wry chuckle. 

“But I have to admit that I’m disappointed, Chief, even if I hear what you’re saying. I guess it was naive of us to think it solved everything, huh? But if you can’t or won’t accept the badge, what will you do? Because there’s no way you’ll be allowed to go back to riding along with me as an official observer. That’s just not going to happen now. And what about Rainier? You’ve trashed your academic credentials there, kiddo, so I guess they’re out of the picture as far as work is concerned. I’m just worried for you, is all,” and he gazed at his Guide, expression frank and open, genuinely thinking about Blair’s situation rather than his own for a change. 

Face betraying his relief and gratitude that Jim wasn’t going to bawl him out yet again, Blair relaxed visibly and took a deep breath before replying. 

“Well, as to that, Jim, I do have some ideas at how to proceed, although I know things won’t be easy for a while. If you could just hear me out, then tell me what you think....”  


\-----------------------------  


**Present:**  


Listening in to Blair’s easy conversation with the desk clerk, Jim shook himself from his reverie for a moment while he shifted in his seat trying to ease the stiffness in his bad leg. His headache had eased slightly now the camper was stationary, but his overall discomfort made him grimace even as his thoughts strayed again to the circumstances that had led to his condition. Because following the discussion in the loft that night, things had changed dramatically for both of them, and not necessarily for the better.  


\------------------------------  


**Two years previously: Cascade General Hospital:**  


Jim fought fiercely to stay in the cool, painless dark of unconsciousness, but it wasn’t to be, and he surfaced slowly to bright light and agony. Hearing a moan, and wondering if it came from him, he tightened his hand around the warmth he could feel against his fingers. Fuzzy and disorientated, he tried to settle himself, and eventually managed to pick out the soothing tones of a voice, hoarse from overuse, murmuring to him over and over. 

“That’s it, Jim. Wake up for me, man. Please open your eyes for me Big Guy. See if you can find those dials man. You need to dial down the pain, Jim. Come on, man. You can do it...” 

Latching onto the siren call like a drowning man, Jim clung tenaciously to the connection, finally managing to do as the voice demanded, and dialling down the pain to more manageable levels. As the deep lines of agony faded gradually from his face, another warm palm cupped his cheek, and he slitted his eyes open to behold the unshaven and tear-streaked face of his Guide. 

“Oh man! Oh Jim! Thank the goddess! You’re awake. You’re going to be OK, Jim,” the younger man babbled in his relief. “I was so scared, man, but I knew you’d fight. Knew it, Jim...” and Blair gave in to the tears that threatened to fall again, only this time they were tears of joy and gratitude that his Sentinel had survived yet again. 

Squeezing the hand clutching his, Jim tried to speak to comfort his weeping partner, and Blair immediately pulled himself together. “Sorry, Jim. Got a bit overwhelmed for a minute,” he sniffled, grinning weakly. “Let me get you some iced water, huh? Your throat must be so sore, man. You were on a respirator until this morning, but this should help,” and he gently released Jim’s hand to reach for the jug already waiting beside the bed. Opening and inserting a straw into the freshly-poured glassful, he rested the end against Jim’s chapped lips. 

“Sip slowly, OK, man? You know the routine, huh?” he murmured, a wry smile lifting the corner of his generous mouth. 

After drinking his fill, Jim indicated that he’d had enough and Blair put the glass back on the nightstand. 

“Wh...what happened, Chief? Don’t remember much after responding to Megan’s call for backup. ‘S’all a bit of a blur,” he managed to croak. 

“Oh man, I’m so sorry, Jim. If I could have been there you’d have been fine, I’m sure! But when you got to the scene you zoned, man, and Megan couldn’t pull you out. You took three bullets while you were out, Jim. Oh gods! When Simon called to tell me, I thought you were dead!” and his face crumpled again as he fought to control his emotions. 

“What’d I zone on, Chief? I vaguely remember approaching the pharmacy, and saw Megan covering the door. And there were a couple of dopers waving guns around inside, threatening the staff and customers. But after that, nothing,” and he fixed Blair with a compelling gaze, needing to know what had gone so very wrong. 

“Well, I’m not entirely certain, Jim, but Megan thinks it was hearing. You told her you were going to listen in to what those whack jobs were planning, and she said you just seemed to fade out. She couldn’t get you to move, and when the perps burst out of the shop, firing in all directions, you were frozen right in their path. They managed to hit you three times before they were taken down, Jim, and if Megan hadn’t been able to push you aside, it could have been even worse. You could have died, man!” 

Frowning at Blair’s words, Jim’s face took on a faraway look as he tried to recall the episode. Eventually, his gaze returned to meet Blair’s anxious eyes, and he murmured, “She’s right, Chief. It was hearing. I remember now. Those guys were completely gone, way beyond reason, and I wanted to see if I could gain the advantage by listening in to their plans, such as they were. But I couldn’t ground myself for some reason. Couldn’t split my attention like I can when you’re with me. And I was stubborn enough to keep trying anyway. 

“It was my own fault, Chief. I should know better than to use my senses to such an extent without my Guide. This just proves what I’ve been telling Simon all along. I can’t do it without you, Blair. And I don’t intend to try anymore.” 

Real shock flashing across his expressive face, Blair swallowed hard before replying. 

“Oh Jim, this is all my fault! If I’d accepted the badge, I would have been with you, and this would never have happened! I’m so sorry, man...” and he gazed imploringly at his beloved Sentinel, seeking forgiveness. 

“I thought I was acting for the best, Jim; for both of us. And I was so wrong!” 

“And that’s enough of that, Blair!” replied Jim as strongly as he could manage. “If you had’ve accepted the badge, then we _both_ might have died! You said it yourself, Chief. We might have been left stranded – helpless without backup – and nobody would’ve done anything about it. At least this way we can show for sure that I can’t function as a Sentinel without my Guide at my side, and if that isn’t enough to persuade the powers that be that I need you as my official ride-along, then I’m out of here. I mean it, Chief. I’ve had enough of the Brass’ bullshit, and I’m ready for a change. 

“So don’t go feeling guilty for something you recognised a year ago, Chief. And now, if you don’t mind, I’m exhausted. 

“Go home, Blair, and get some rest. I know you’ve been here since I arrived, and I’m going to be OK. Go. Home!” and Jim fell back against his pillows, worn out by the effort of talking. 

His face still worried but also wearing a shaky and watery half-smile, Blair nodded slowly. 

“OK, Jim. I hear you. And if you’re sure you don’t mind, I’ll get back to the loft and freshen up a bit. But I’ll be back soon, I promise! 

“Gods, it’s so good to talk to you again, man! I don’t know what I would have done if--” 

“But it didn’t happen, Sandburg,” Jim interjected tiredly. 

“So I say again, go, shower, rest, and I’ll see you in a few hours, OK?” 

And Blair smiled sympathetically as Jim fell deeply asleep again almost between one breath and the next; his relief and gratitude overwhelming as he lingered a few moments longer to watch his partner relax into a genuine healing slumber.  


\-------------------------  


A while later, Jim surfaced again, immediately aware that he had company. However, he was slightly disappointed to find that rather than Blair it was Simon sitting beside the bed reading a newspaper. Knowing that he had insisted on the younger man taking a break to rest and freshen up he ordered himself to get over it, and be grateful that his old friend and boss had come to take over baby-sitting duty in Blair’s absence. 

“Hey, Simon. Been here long?” he croaked, voice still hoarse from his sore throat and the dry atmosphere of the hospital room. 

“Jim! My God, man, I’m so glad to see you awake! Blair told me you had come around, and asked me to come up and keep you company until he got back. Tell the truth, he looked like shit, but it’s hardly surprising since he’s never left your bedside since you were admitted. 

“But how’re you feeling, my friend? As bad as you look?” 

Grinning ruefully both at Simon’s enthusiasm and his frank observation, Jim nodded towards the water jug again. “If you get me a drink, I’ll tell you,” he rasped, coughing painfully at the effort. Simon quickly reached for a glass and a straw, and offered the soothing liquid, waiting patiently until Jim had drunk enough to ease the roughness in his throat. 

However, just then they were interrupted by the arrival of Jim’s doctor; a kind-looking middle-aged man who offered Jim a tired grin. 

“Good to see you awake, Detective Ellison. My name is Doctor Stevens, and I have to say you had us worried for a while, but your young partner insisted you’d surprise us. Seemed sure you wouldn’t give up, and I’m glad to say that he was right. And I’m also glad you managed to persuade him to go home and change. It was more than we could do! He virtually camped in here from the moment you were admitted. 

“Anyhow, I guess you’d like to hear what happened to you, and what the prognosis is, eh?” and he glanced meaningfully at Simon, who half-rose from his seat, intending to give Jim some privacy. 

“It’s OK, Doctor. Simon’s my friend as well as my captain, so I’m happy for him to stay. Blair did say I’d taken three bullets, but I fell asleep before he could elaborate, so tell me everything, please.”  


\------------------------------  


As it turned out, Jim had learned that day that his injuries, although severe, weren’t actually as life-threatening as it first appeared. That did not, however, mean that he could shake off the effects this time simply with determination and good therapy. 

As Blair had told him and the doctor confirmed, he had been hit by three stray bullets – one of which had hit him in the same leg as Zeller’s bullet, compounding the damage to his knee and permanently affecting his mobility, if only to a degree. The other two bullets had hit him from behind as Megan had fought to pull him up and out of the firing line. One – the most potentially dangerous – had creased the back of his skull, thankfully not penetrating, but causing a hair-line fracture along with serious concussion. The severity of the blow combined with the after-effects of his zone and accompanying sensory spike had actually shocked him into respiratory failure for a while, hence his being put on a respirator immediately on admission to the hospital. The subsequent headaches plagued him still on occasion, especially when stressed or over-tired. The third bullet had hit him high in the back and shoulder, striking and cracking his scapula, but also ensuring that the shot was diverted so that rather than penetrating his torso, it exited through the fleshy part of his upper arm. It was pure luck that the two drug-crazed perps had only had access to relatively small handguns; their revolvers’ 32 calibre rounds lacking real killing power unless at very close range. Jim knew he had to be thankful for small mercies. 

The outcome, however, meant that he had to seriously reconsider his role as a cop, especially as Simon confirmed with regret that when he returned to the PD after his recuperation, there was still no way TPTB would reinstate Sandburg, and it was a certainty that he would be limited to desk duties only for the foreseeable future until the situation could be reviewed. 

Coming to terms with this information had actually been easier for Jim than one might have thought in view of his previous single-minded dedication to his chosen career. The animosity and intolerance directed towards Blair by many within the PD’s ranks had been a wake-up call as far as Jim was concerned, and in the few months between the ‘diss disaster’ and Jim’s injury, he had had cause to re-evaluate his view of many of his fellow cops. To say he was disillusioned was an understatement, and he knew that Blair had been right to turn down the chance of joining their ranks. 

And Jim was well aware that whatever he decided, Blair would stick with him unreservedly, so he knew that it was time he rewarded his Guide’s unswerving loyalty by offering him a chance to choose what path they should follow for the next few years. After all, it wasn’t as if Blair had a compelling reason to stay in Cascade, other than his love for Jim. 

True, he had taken steps to salvage a little of what he had lost, but in truth it wasn’t as much as he deserved. 

After he had turned down the badge, Blair had taken the advice of one of his remaining friends in Rainier’s Law Department and threatened to sue Sid Graham and Berkshire Publishing for releasing extracts of his intellectual property to the media without permission and thus compromising police business. The result was a swiftly-offered but fairly reasonable out-of-court settlement which Blair was content to accept, even if he could have pushed for more. As far as he was concerned, it was enough, and he didn’t need the extra hassle of pursuing it further and risking losing it all. At least he could pay off his student loans, and the remaining balance was enough to tide him over for a while until he decided what he wanted to do with his life. 

He had also managed to extract a grudging public apology from Rainier since he had never actually submitted the Sentinel diss anyway, and Chancellor Edwards’ self-serving and subsequent vindictive actions had done the University’s reputation no good. Unfortunately, there was never a chance of reinstating him to his teaching position or to the doctoral programme, as he had trashed his own reputation at the press conference, and there was no denying that his absenteeism was an issue even if it was officially classed as time spent with his dissertation subject. 

Despite these minor victories, the young man had failed thus far to secure a decent or satisfying job in Cascade, and was making do with tutoring and occasional part-time manual work as he didn’t want to use up his settlement money too soon and still wanted to contribute to household expenses. He still felt guilty remaining at the loft, concerned at the messages his continuing presence would send to anyone still nosying around the ‘Sentinel’ issue. He had also to be convinced that he wasn’t simply living off Jim’s good-nature despite his efforts to pay his own way, although Jim constantly reassured him that he was no burden, and Jim genuinely wanted him to stay. 

Jim smiled to himself when he remembered the day not long after he had been released from hospital, and he had voiced his doubts about returning to the PD. Sentinel recall ensured that he could picture exactly the myriad expressions that had chased across his Guide’s mobile face. Every emotion was plain to see; from shock, worry, puzzlement to downright disbelief, but Blair didn’t let him down. His first words were, as always, centred on Jim and what his Sentinel and best friend needed. And then Jim had halted him mid-sentence and asked him instead what he – Blair – needed, and Jim chuckled now as he relived the precious moment. 

Head tilted on one side, with a quizzical ‘huh? What do you mean, man?’ expression making Blair look impossibly cute; the young man had finally found his voice. 

“Are you serious, Jim? I mean, even if you decide to leave the PD, why would you want to know what I’d like to do? Speaking hypothetically of course, as you said. I mean, you’re the Sentinel here, and it’s your future role as a protector of the tribe that we’re discussing. My daydreams aren’t important, man. That’s all they are. Daydreams.” 

But Jim had persisted, and Blair had finally given in, face taking on a soft and slightly unfocussed quality. 

“I think, given the choice, I’d like to leave Cascade for a while. Not necessarily for good, you know, but for long enough to put some distance between all that’s happened to us here, and to get it into some sort of perspective. Not that I’d want to go alone,” he had added hastily, needing to reassure Jim of his trustworthiness yet again. “But even though I know it’s impossible, I’d like for us to travel around the country a bit, checking out a few of the places I visited as kid, and trying to recapture the magic without the stress of being looked at as a fraud or a pariah. I really did visit some cool places with Naomi, man, not just abroad, and I wish that you could experience them with me...” and he had smiled wistfully at the thought, obviously never believing that Jim would do anything but laugh or indulge in some sort of gentle mockery at his expense. 

And the look on his face had been priceless when Jim had replied matter-of-factly, “Sounds good to me, Chief. We’ll get going as soon as we can make the arrangements, OK?”  


\-------------------------  


So here they were, having been on the road for the better part of the last two years. And despite his present discomfort, Jim didn’t regret a minute. Far from becoming tired of each other’s constant company, the pair had settled into a gently amicable and undemanding relationship, although Jim was ruefully aware that occasionally, as now, his physical condition meant that his temper got the better of him and Blair inevitably bore the brunt of his waspishness. They had travelled unhurriedly across the length and breadth of the country, revisiting many of Blair’s old haunts, and Jim had surprised himself with his ability to look at every place objectively, cheering Blair no end with his detailed impressions and turning his hand to whatever was needed to make their short stays satisfactory. Without the pressure of constantly being in the public eye, he gradually accepted his senses as the days passed, finally letting them become a part of him, and no longer fighting them tooth and nail. And he learned to work with his Guide rather than begrudge his help and support, although he had yet to use them in the type of trying circumstances he had had to do as a cop. 

Even those places of which he found himself less than enamoured, he was able to comment constructively without hurting Blair’s feelings too much, and Blair always appreciated his candour, moving on without complaint. 

However, Jim was aware that this comfortable state of affairs couldn’t last forever, and both he and Blair would eventually need something beyond their easy-going and undemanding extended vacation. But although he had a vague and formless conviction that their mutual epiphany was approaching, he was in no hurry to force that issue either.   


\----------------------------  


Seeing his Guide striding back towards the camper, room key swinging from his hand, Jim roused himself from his ruminations and made an effort to grin at his friend, glad to see the relief and happiness reassert itself on Blair’s open features. 

“Got a good room then” he stated, knowing that Blair would have expected him to listen in to the conversation. “Let’s get ourselves settled, Chief. I need to lie down for a while, decrepit old fart that I am!” 

And Blair laughed unaffectedly as he climbed into the cab and turned the ignition. “You, decrepit? Never!” and he pulled away to park outside their new temporary dwelling.  


\--------------------------  


**Part 2: A Chance to Grow:**  


Later that night both men were enjoying a companionable silence, each wrapped up in their own thoughts and content to relax after a long day’s travelling. Jim was surfing idly through the limited channels available on the room’s smallish TV, while sprawling comfortably on the bed nearest the set. He was feeling much better now, having enjoyed the benefit of his Guide’s talented hands massaging away the pain and stiffness from his back and knee and obeying the soothing voice helping him to dial down the persistent ache sitting behind his eyes. The remains of the pizza they’d ordered in had been cleared away, and Jim reached for the bottle of beer he had cooling in the ice bucket next to his bed. Despite his apparent preoccupation with the TV, however, he was happy to cast the occasional surreptitious glance over at his friend, who was sitting cross-legged on the other bed, concentrating on his own occupation. 

Blair had pulled out his ancient backpack and his beloved, if now equally antiquated laptop, and was making the most of the motel’s free Wi-Fi as he pulled up as much information he could about Tucson and its environs. Glasses perched on the end of his nose, his muted enthusiasm and gentle smile was still obvious to Jim, who ruefully considered once again that you could take the man out of the Anthro Department, but you couldn’t take the anthropologist out of the man. Jim was well aware that each of the places they had visited over the past months had had significance for his Guide beyond that of just sightseeing trips. When questioned directly about his choices, Blair had diffidently explained that the main reason for his suggested tour was that he wanted to explore and develop the shaman aspect of the Sentinel and Guide partnership, his demeanour suggesting that he fully expected Jim’s ridicule and denial once again. And Jim couldn’t really blame him for his reticence, since Jim himself had tried to ignore and repress the potential problems; angered when Incacha had passed the Way of the Shaman to Blair along with all its implicit responsibility. 

At the time still wary of Blair’s reasons for staying with him, apart from using him as a study subject, the very thought of burdening the younger man with yet more mystic mumbo-jumbo had troubled Jim to the extent that he had deliberately belittled his Guide or snubbed his every attempt to broach the subject. He had therefore mentally high-fived himself when this time he had simply nodded benevolently at Blair’s nervous explanation, chuckling inwardly in succeeding for once to render the smaller man speechless. 

Aware of Jim’s scrutiny, Blair raised his head and grinned at his partner. “Hey, Jim. We’ve had a few emails. Do you want me to read them out to you?” 

“Sure, Chief. Nice to know that there are still some folks who are interested in what we’re doing. Fire away!” 

“OK, Big Guy. First one’s from Megan. She wants to know if she can decorate the bathroom, man. And she promises it won’t be in ‘Pink Dingo!’” 

Jim laughed out loud at that, recalling the first time they had experienced the Aussie Inspector’s infamous pink coat. Megan had proved to be a great friend to both of them, and when she had heard of their plans to take a break from Cascade, had asked if she could rent the loft during their absence. Glad to have someone they trusted to take care of the place, Jim had agreed with alacrity, and honestly had no problem with her redecorating projects. 

“Tell her ‘no worries,’ Chief! It can’t be worse than the green you persuaded me to try. Any other news?” 

“Yeah, Jim. She says Rafe has finally popped the question to Susan the doughnut girl. They’re looking to tie the knot sometime next Spring. He wants to know if we’ll be there...,” he added a little wistfully, glancing inquisitively across at Jim for his response. 

“Well, good for Rafe! I never thought he’d find the nerve – or the balls!” Jim snickered. “And I guess we can make an effort to be there for the nuptials, even if we’re not ready to return permanently. You can tell her ‘yes, hopefully’, to that also. Anything else?” 

“Not from Megan, but there’s one here from Joel. He wishes us well, and hopes we’re still OK. He wants to know if you’re still improving, although I get the feeling that he doesn’t expect you to return to the PD. Oh, and hey! He’s looking to take early retirement in the Fall, because he wants to spend more time with Marcie! That’s really great, don’t you think?” 

“That’s good news, Chief,” agreed Jim. He knew Joel thought the world of his wife of more than thirty years, and he couldn’t blame the man for wanting to spend a long and happy retirement with her. It would be strange visiting the PD and not seeing him there, though, as he was another great friend who had been there for them both, and particularly for Blair, whom he had treated like his own son. 

“Give him my best when you write back, and my love to Marcie also. I’m sure she’ll be looking forward to having him at home all the time, spoiling him rotten! Is that all for now?” 

“Um, there’s one from Naomi, but it’s only to say that she’s back from Tibet and is spending some time at Big Sur with another group of friends. She’s fine, and hopes we are also. Doesn’t say anything about meeting up again anytime soon, though,” he added sadly. “I guess she’s still not over the whole diss mess, although I’d have thought she would have been pleased that I didn’t join the ranks of the ‘pigs’ after all,” and he sighed deeply, a look of resignation crossing his face. 

“Don’t worry, Chief. She’ll come round in her own good time. Although I admit that it’s been a good two years since you saw her last. But I have to say I thought she looked very uncomfortable then, even for such a brief meeting. Perhaps it’s the fact that we’re still together that’s troubling her? I get the feeling she always thought I was a bad influence on you,” he added, only half-jokingly. 

“I’ve no idea what she’s thinking, Jim, truly. But if she believes I could turn my back on all my years at Rainier and my years with you and return to the sort of itinerant life-style she prefers, constantly seeking self-fulfilment and enlightenment she’s got another think coming. We may be on the road, but it’s for both our benefits! I hope...,” he added, a touch of uncertainty finally colouring his otherwise robust argument. 

“Of course it is, Junior!” responded Jim feelingly. “We’ve come a long way, and as far as I’m concerned, our partnership is stronger than ever. And the more information and experience you can gather about Shamanism the better. I was wrong to try and dissuade you, Chief. I know that now. And with all those notes you’ve compiled already, you could write a good few more papers, hey?” and he was gratified to see Blair’s mood lightening again as he smiled happily – and with no little appreciation – over at his Sentinel. 

However, Blair’s face lost some of its uncomplicated joy as he read the final message. 

“Um, this one’s from Simon, man,” he murmured, scanning the contents before offering a quick summary in a curiously flat tone. “He wants to know how you’re doing....Are you managing OK with the senses...Um...Any decision yet about returning to Cascade. And he sends you his best wishes and looks forward to seeing you...,” and he tailed off quietly, his scent tinged faintly with sadness to Jim’s sentinel-sensitive nose. 

Frowning at Blair’s almost palpable air of disappointment, Jim pushed himself up on the bed to attract and hold the other man’s attention. 

“Well, that’s nice of him to say, Chief, but surely that includes both of us?” 

“No, Jim, unless you count ‘PS: regards to Sandburg’”, replied Blair softly. “He just says you, man. Guess he’s still not forgiven me for turning the badge down and then dragging you off on a ‘magical mystery tour,’ huh?” and he offered Jim a wry half-grin even as his eyes reflected his hurt. 

“Then more fool him!” replied Jim explosively. “Look, Chief, he’ll either get over it or he won’t – he’s had long enough after all - but if he doesn’t it’s his loss, OK? Tell you what, if you’ll pass the laptop over, _I’ll_ respond to this one if it’s OK with you. And I’ll tell him we’re _both_ doing well. And then you can give me a quick run-down on the things you’ve got planned for us over the next few days.” 

And, his enthusiasm back with a bound, Blair did just that.  


\------------------------------  


The following morning saw both men strolling in the early morning sunshine, intent on enjoying a welcome breakfast. Directed to a diner less than a block from the motel by the ever-cheerful Leigh, Jim was already salivating at the thought of steak and eggs, even though he didn’t usually indulge in such a treat. Blair no longer nagged quite as much about his eating habits, but that was probably because Jim had gradually modified his diet anyway over the years, finding that many of the younger man’s suggestions and favourite foods were actually tasty as well as healthy options. 

And Blair himself wasn’t averse to the occasional bite of junk food either; yet another indication of how they had rubbed off on one another. In fact, if they’d cared to analyse it, their behaviour was like nothing so much as the comfortable give and take enjoyed by established married couples, and the realisation wouldn’t have troubled either of them. 

“So, Jim, how are you feeling now you’re up and about? You certainly look much better, and your limp is hardly noticeable. How’s the pain dial working?” 

Looking down into Blair’s earnest face, Jim smiled softly, as always warmed by his Guide’s unstinting concern for his welfare. “I’m fine, Junior. I just needed a good night’s sleep in a decent-sized bed, and the headache started to subside almost as soon as we stopped moving. It was just too long stuck in the cab, is all. And with the best will in the world, too many consecutive nights sleeping in the camper’s little bunks don’t do anything for my stiffness or my temper! 

“But don’t take on, Chief,” he added hurriedly as Blair’s face assumed a faintly guilty cast again. “As an alternative to camping it’s way more satisfactory than a sleeping bag on the hard ground these days. It’s just that every so often I need to stretch properly in a bed that’s not designed for midgets, and I appreciate your forethought in booking us in here. 

“Anyhow, the dials are all working just fine, and no, I haven’t dialled down too far!” he added, correctly anticipating Blair’s next question. 

Snickering at Jim’s words, Blair replied, “I know, man! After all this time, I still ask the same things! It’s an ingrained habit now. But it’s only because I care, Jim.” 

“I know, Chief, and I’m grateful. And glad you made a reservation for us, because I think over the next couple of days it’s going to get really busy, especially round here so close to the showground. I guess the rodeo’s a bigger affair than I’d imagined.” 

“It is, Jim, if it’s as good as I remember. And there’s a lot more of interest around here also. I’ll give you a proper run-down over breakfast of everything I pulled up on the web last night while you were resting, and hopefully there’ll be plenty for you to do while I’m visiting the rez...” and Jim just had to grin as his friend actually bounced with the sort of enthusiasm he had demonstrated in the early days of their acquaintance. An enthusiasm which had gradually faded away and been absent for far too long after the Alex affair and the incident at the fountain, and even before then, truth be told. 

Arriving at the diner, the pair settled themselves in a booth near the front where they could watch the comings and goings outside, and perused the menu while a friendly middle-aged waitress poured them fresh coffee. 

“Morning, fellas. This your first visit to Tucson?” she asked with a grin. Offering her a beaming smile in return, Blair quickly noted her name badge and replied cheerfully, “Morning, Babs! No, I’ve visited before, but many years ago, so I’m sure a lot’s changed since then. But it’ll be Jim’s first visit, though,” he added, turning to include Jim in his happy smile. As Jim nodded in amicable agreement, he was inwardly amused as Babs was immediately smitten by his partner’s unconscious charm, and virtually preened as her own smile widened in response. 

“Well then, I hope ya’ll find plenty to enjoy while you’re here, boys! So, what can I get you?” and she pulled out her notepad to take their order. 

“I’d like the mushroom omelette, please, Babs, with wheat toast and a side of hash browns,” said Blair, mouth already watering in anticipation. 

“Sure thing, hon. And would you like some cheese on that?” 

“Oh, go on then! You’ve persuaded me!” laughed Blair. “What about you, Big Guy?” 

“I’d like the steak and eggs, please, Babs. White toast; and I’ll go for a side of hash browns also,” Jim answered, offering her his own version of charm. 

Totally besotted by the pair, Babs almost glowed in appreciation. “Coming right up boys! And just you let me know when you need more coffee!” and she hummed contentedly as she hurried to put their order in. 

“Nice place, huh?” murmured Blair. “Leigh said it was the best place in the area. He also said it’d get really busy soon, and I guess he was right,” and he nodded at the rapidly-filling tables. 

“Always a good sign, Chief. Just as long as we’re ahead of the rush, I’m happy!” and Jim took a long drink of good fresh coffee as he regarded his Guide, simply content to study the smaller man and soak in the comfortable atmosphere. 

“So, Chief. Tell me all about Tucson, and what we’ve got lined up....”  


\-------------------------  


A short while later the two men ambled back towards the motel to prepare for their planned excursion, both relaxed and contented; their hunger well satisfied by the breakfast which was every bit as good as Leigh had promised. They had decided to spend the first day of their stay within easy reach of their accommodation, as neither of them particularly wanted to do any more driving just yet, and there was plenty to see and do, beginning with a visit to the rodeo ground. As they walked, Jim was happy to listen to his Guide’s reminiscences of his childhood visit to ‘La Fiesta de los Vaqueros’, enthusing over his impressions of the Parade, and his shy confession that for a while he had convinced himself that he wanted to become either a famous bucking bronco rider or a bull rider until Naomi dissuaded him. 

Laughing self-consciously, Blair recalled, “Man, I thought it was so cool, you know? These guys looked so good to me – all swagger and confidence, larger than life even when they got thrown to the dust within seconds! And the crowds loved it! I thought how great it would be to have folks cheering for me like that, you know? ‘Cos I was such a skinny little runt – all wild hair and too-large glasses and too bright for my own good. I might just as well have had a sign tattooed on my forehead, man. ‘Geek here – take your best shot’”. And although he was grinning as he said it, Jim was saddened to see the quickly concealed evidence of old pain in Blair’s expressive blue eyes. 

“Yeah, well, all I can say is that I’m glad you didn’t take that route, Darwin, however tempting! Those guys take some real punishment, and I like my geek as he is, thank you very much!” and Jim slung a companionable arm around Blair’s shoulders, pleased when his Guide smiled up at him, leaning into the one-armed hug for a moment before pulling away again. 

“Thanks, man. That’s good of you to say. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad I heeded Naomi’s advice and David Night Owl’s guidance after all. I’ll never regret studying and searching for my Sentinel. And finding him...” and he blushed again, hoping he hadn’t just made a fool of himself. 

Rather than labour the point and perhaps embarrassing Blair even more, Jim simply squeezed his shoulder again in wordless support, and changed the subject slightly. 

“So, Chief, is this David Night Owl the shaman you’re hoping to meet up with? Do you think he’ll remember you after all these years?” 

“Oh yeah, Jim, I’m sure of it! Naomi mentioned to him that I was travelling in this direction the last time she saw him in passing a few months ago and she said then in her email to me that David was pleased to hear it and hoped I’d be getting in touch. Kinda got the feeling she wasn’t too happy about it, but with things as they are between us at the moment, she’s probably just over-sensitive. 

“He’s an awesome guy, Jim. Even then as a precocious kid I recognised something special about him...” and he was off and running again, describing the reservation and segueing into another mini-lecture about the original Native American settlers of the Sonora Desert Valley, the establishing of the ‘Old Pueblo’, or Tucson Presidio, and then mentioning Cochise’ stronghold and the Chiricahua Apache base east of Dragoon. By the time they’d reached their room, Jim had been made well-aware of the significance of this area for his friend, and was more than happy to explore it and experience it for himself.   


\---------------------------------  


**That night, back in the motel room:**  


Stretching his arms above his head and yawning widely, Jim flopped gracefully down on his bed with a contented sigh. Turning to face his Guide, who was just emerging from the small but adequate bathroom in a haze of steam, he grinned lazily as he said, “Well, Junior, got to say it’s been a great day. I never would have believed I could have so much fun at a rodeo, and I can see why you enjoyed it so much. Did it live up to your expectations?” 

Smiling happily at his words, Blair replied, “Yeah, Jim, it did. I know that sometimes trying to revisit past occasions or old haunts can lead to disappointment, but not in this case. Hell, I almost felt like a little kid again when the barrel-racing was on, cheering for my favourite to win! Those gals can really ride, can’t they? And most of them aren’t half bad to look at either,” he added, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

Deliberately ignoring his friend’s last comment despite his answering snicker, Jim replied, “Sure can, Chief! I’d forgotten just what speeds those quarter horses can hit also.” 

Head on one side, Blair contemplated his larger friend for a moment before continuing. “Hey, Jim, did you ever do any western riding like that when you were growing up? I mean, you made some throwaway comment about having horses when you were a kid, I just wondered?” 

“Nah, Chief. Not like that, anyway. We mostly rode English style, and to be honest it was such a long time ago, I hardly ever think about it now. Although I know I used to enjoy it.” 

“If you don’t count the Little Stogie episode that is!” chuckled Blair in response, pleased when Jim laughed at the memory. 

“Yeah, well, I guess it must be like riding a bike to a certain extent, Chief. Once learned, never forgotten! But I still wouldn’t ride a bucking bronco or go barrel-racing against those gals! I do hate to make a fool of myself in public!” 

Joining in with Jim’s relaxed laughter, Blair sat down on his own bed, towelling his hair dry after his quick shower. 

“So, you’re really OK if I go to visit David for a couple of days? It’s not that I don’t want you to come to the rez, but I don’t think there’s much there for you to do, and I’ll probably be with David most of the time.” 

“I’ll be fine, Chief. After all, I’ll have the wheels, and I always wanted to visit Tombstone. It was one of my – and Stevie’s – fantasies that we were involved in the Gunfight at the OK Corral. And we never missed! 

“So no, I don’t mind at all if you spend some time with your shaman friend. He’s probably got plenty to tell you and I guess you’ll have quite a bit of catching up to do.” 

Relieved, Blair smiled over at his Sentinel before returning his wet towel to the bathroom and getting himself comfortable for the night. 

“Thanks, Jim. And now I’m going to see if I can get a reasonable night’s sleep. I’ve got an early start in the morning.”  


\------------------------------  


Not long after their arrival at the motel the previous night, Blair had managed to get a message through to David Night Owl at the reservation by calling the local Native American Sheriff’s office. The amiable deputy he’d spoken to had agreed to drop by at David’s place and pass on Blair’s request, as David, like many of the older tribespeople, had neither cellphone or landline. He promised that he would call back when he had a response, and had been as good as his word, calling Blair’s cellphone less than two hours later. 

Obviously pleased to receive Blair’s call, David had offered the young man a ride to the reservation travelling with his nephew and a friend who were also visiting the rodeo for a couple of days. When the nephew, John Running Horse, had contacted Blair at the fairground via his cellphone, they had arranged for the boys to pick Blair up at the motel at 8.00 am the following morning, which would give Blair and Jim time to enjoy another breakfast at the diner before Blair left for his visit. 

Once the arrangements had been made, Jim had grinned indulgently at Blair’s uncomplicated excitement at seeing his old mentor again, but later that night he slept restlessly, an amorphous concern for his Guide’s safety niggling at the edges of his dreams even though he had no visit to the blue jungle of his Sentinel visionscape. Scolding himself for his over-protectiveness yet again, Jim forced himself to appear calm and congenial over breakfast, not wanting to spoil his friend’s enthusiasm for the upcoming trip. After all, he told himself with a touch of rueful amusement; it was probably just a mild form of separation anxiety since they had been virtually conjoined for so many months now. 

When a battered F150; not unlike Jim’s beloved ‘Sweetheart’ who was presently stored in Joel’s garage; pulled up outside their room, Jim just had to grin at his bouncing partner. 

“Well, at least you get to travel in the style to which you are accustomed, Chief,” he chuckled, dodging easily as Blair aimed a playful swat upside his head. 

“You’re just jealous, man!” Blair chortled. “You know very well you’re missing your beloved ‘Sweetheart’, and you’ll have to make do with the camper! 

“But don’t worry, man,” he continued, his expression softening to one of gentle understanding. “You won’t be away from her forever, man. Promise!” 

And Jim gave him a quick, wordless but heart-felt hug before handing him his duffel, watching as his grinning Guide climbed easily into the truck, and with a wave and toot of the horn, disappeared out of the parking lot on his way to the reservation.  


\---------------------------  


After the initial few miles, the drive up to the reservation proved to be an enjoyable experience, with Blair easily winning over the two younger men with his open and unaffected enthusiasm, coupled with his obvious knowledge and understanding of their tribal lore. 

Although it was plain at the outset that the younger men had had their own reservations about the significance of this particular white man, having been ordered to at least treat him with due respect, they quickly responded to his unforced charm, and by the time they had arrived in front of David Night Owl’s cabin, they were laughing and joshing like old friends. 

“Thanks for the ride guys, and see you around!” Blair called out as he jumped down from the truck. 

“No problem, Blair! And don’t let Uncle David hog all your time, man. I just gotta see how good you really are at pool. The bar and pool hall is within easy walking distance, but if you want a ride, just give me a call, OK?” and John sketched a cheerful salute as he gunned the old truck’s engine and roared away in a cloud of dust. 

Turning to face the cabin, Blair took a moment to study the calm figure awaiting him, his immense joy at being reunited with someone who had made such an impact on an impressionable child slightly tempered with nervousness that the older man might be disappointed with his erstwhile pupil. 

Although not overly tall, maybe an inch or two more so than Blair, David Night Owl gave the impression of being much more imposing, standing straight and proud despite his advancing years. His long hair was now liberally streaked with grey, and his wide features more lined and weathered, but the twinkle in his bright eyes and the grave smile he offered Blair instantly dispelled the younger man’s qualms. Opening his arms, he gathered Blair to him, the whipcord strength of his wiry body both welcoming and supporting the smaller man, who laid his head against his shoulder with a sigh of contentment. Gratified to feel Blair relaxing into his hold, David maintained the hug for a few more minutes before gently disengaging from him and pushing him away slightly to study him, hands resting lightly on Blair’s shoulders. 

“It is good to see you again, Young Wolf,” he murmured. “You have grown both in stature and spiritual strength since we were parted. But I think there is still much for you to learn, and I hope that this time we can accomplish more before you leave again.” 

Slightly disconcerted at David’s addressing him as ‘Young Wolf’, yet Blair put his momentary disquiet aside, certain that all would become clear to him in due course, so sure was he that David was the one who could help him to finally understand and perhaps live up to the role Incacha had passed on to him. 

“It is so good to see you also, my Father,” Blair replied, addressing David as he had been wont to do in the past. “I am so grateful that you have agreed to meet me again after too many years apart, and apologise for not contacting you sooner. My life has involved much travelling since we parted, but it’s still no excuse for not getting in touch. 

“But I felt you would not want to see me, or be reminded of Naomi,” he continued more quietly, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Although I was very young, I know she parted from you with harsh words, and refused to ever talk about you again however much I questioned. For a long time I thought it was because of me, and that you both blamed me. I’m sorry....” 

Giving Blair’s shoulders a firm shake, David held his gaze with a narrow-eyed solemnity. “It’s true that you were at the heart of our disagreement, Young Wolf, but the fault was not of your making. When it became clear to me that your destiny was to partner a Watchman, Naomi was horrified. She said that no one should be forced into such a restricted and committed relationship, especially a child of the world with so much to experience and so much to give. It was an anathema to her; the complete antithesis of everything she held dear. 

“But perhaps we should forgive her for her foibles, for who is to say that she didn’t have your best interest at heart? She loves you very much, even if that love means that she feels compelled to interfere with your life at the most inopportune moments.” 

And Blair chuckled ruefully at that, nodding in agreement. “You got that right, my Father,” he replied, a sardonic half-smile lifting his generous lips. “And I’m afraid that she did it once too often, and we are all still coming to terms with the aftermath! But if nothing in this life happens randomly, then there is a reason for our troubles, and I come to you to help me understand my part in all this.” 

“And so you shall, Young Wolf,” replied David, guiding Blair into his modest cabin with a companionable arm around his shoulders. “The time has come for you to embrace this chance to grow into your destiny, and I am pleased and proud to be able to help you realise your potential. Let’s get you settled now, and then continue this discussion. I have much to tell you....”  


\--------------------------------  


**Part 3: An Unexpected Diversion:**  


For the rest of the day, they talked incessantly, the hours flying by unnoticed as Blair’s eyes were opened to many mysteries in his past, and – should he wish it – possibilities for his future. He found himself telling David everything about his years with Jim. His hopes, his fears, and finally his despair when Jim had thrown him out and let him die, calling him back only to make out with his murderer before Blair’s very eyes. 

Instead of dismissing his hurt with a few well-meaning platitudes, David was quietly incensed by Blair’s pain, but also able to respond with understanding and an enlightened viewpoint. 

“You see why I now call you Young Wolf, do you not? He is your spirit guide, and you yourself have merged with him when you most needed him. It is through his strength that you were able to respond to your Sentinel’s cry for you to return to his side. You have also seen Ellison’s spirit guide, the black jaguar, and you have merged with him also. That moment should have been the crowning moment – the ultimate sealing of your bond as Sentinel and Guide. 

“But your Sentinel is damaged. Unable to accept what you should be to him. It is not his fault, but it is potentially lethal for you, Young Wolf. And I think he knows this, as did his first shaman so many years ago in that far-off country where he was forced to face up to his gift. I have seen it, and I have conversed with Incacha on the spirit plane, and he has told me all. 

“Ellison is frightened. Not just for himself, but for you. Despite all you have been through, all you have sacrificed for him, he does not believe himself worthy of you. But do not despair, Young Wolf. I have seen your joining, and I know that the full bond is within both your grasps. You are already close to that point, and it will take little more to drive you both to accept the inevitable. 

“But there is still an obstacle to overcome, and I feel it looming close although I do not yet know the form it will take. I need to meditate further, as do you, Young Wolf. Tonight it is the full moon, and a propitious time for you to attempt your first true spirit walk. In days gone by, your Watchman would be with you to guard your body while your spirit flies free, but since he is not, it is up to you if you wish to attempt it alone. 

“Know that I shall be here and waiting for you, and I shall be with you in spirit, but otherwise you will be alone. Are you prepared to try? If you do not, I shall not think any the less of you, Blair, so do not base your decision on that. Do as you feel fit, and feel no guilt if you want to delay your walk until another time. But do not delay too long,” he added warningly. 

Blair was silent for long moments as he considered David’s suggestion. In itself, he wasn’t worried on a physical level. He trusted David to watch over him in spirit, and he had no qualms about spending a night alone. However, he was definitely concerned about what he might see while out of his body. Now the time approached for him to achieve fulfilment, he was unsure of his ability to fully embrace it, ruefully aware of deeply ingrained self-doubt despite his customary facade of cheerful confidence. Finally, he sighed heavily, having made his decision. Looking up to meet David’s calm but inquisitive gaze, he said, “I’ll do it, my Father. I don’t know what I shall see, or if I shall be able to live up to what is offered, but I want to try. I _need_ to try! I want nothing more than to be worthy of being Jim’s partner in all things. He has so much still to offer. His gifts, though great, could be even more, but only if I am truly what he needs. And if he wants it to be so. 

“If nothing else,” he continued softly, “At least I shall know if I fail, and I shall try to accept my failure and get out of his life.” 

“I think there is little chance of that, Young Wolf”, David replied with a gentle smile. “Let us prepare you for your vigil. There is a cleansing ritual to perform, and then I shall accompany you to my meditation platform. Once you are settled, I shall return here, and let the Spirits do as they will.”  


\-------------------------  


**Tombstone, same day:**  


Jim wandered around the small town, soaking up the warmth of the afternoon sunshine, and feeling relaxed and comfortable. He had quietly enjoyed the overtly touristy veneer surrounding the notorious gunfight location, chuckling at the cheesy re-enactments and sampling a beer in ‘Big Nose Kate’s Saloon’. He felt no pressure to do anything but play the part of a casual sight-seer, and was surprised to feel slightly out-of-sorts in the role. 

Although not wishing to analyse his unease in any depth, he found himself pondering the question for a while anyway, whilst sipping his second beer. He had always been something of a loner, so wasn’t looking for conversation or casual acquaintance, preferring his own company and eschewing unnecessary small-talk. Considering this, he would have expected to feel relief at this small respite from having Blair constantly at his side, however fond he was of the other man. 

But surprisingly it wasn’t the case after all. He actually missed Blair’s cheerful presence and astute observations, the quick-witted repartee when encouraged, or the companionable silence when required. Who’d have thought that the younger man could have become so precious – so indispensible? It was true. They fit so well, so seamlessly together that Jim no longer felt whole when alone, and the fact that he felt he had now ‘grown into’ his senses at last was only because of Blair’s constant support and belief in him. Recalling the merging of their spirit animals with the usual pang of guilt at his subsequent frightened denial of the nascent bond, this time he pushed beyond his discomfort and remembered instead how right it had felt. How the pure essence of the younger man had flashed into every fibre of his being, willing to reside in his body and soul if allowed. 

But Jim hadn’t allowed. Years of distrust and self-reliance made sure of that, and Blair had retreated in broken-hearted confusion, hurt beyond measure by his Sentinel’s stubborn rejection; the pain compounded at the sight of Jim and Alex going at it hot and heavy on that beach. But still he stayed. Still he hoped, and still he made do with the crumbs of friendship Jim threw him. 

Pushing his half-finished beer aside, Jim came to a decision. Of all places to undergo an epiphany, here he was, finally determined to accept the full gift of Blair’s love, if it was still on offer. In the back of his mind he could almost hear Incacha’s undoubted response. “It is about time, Enqueri!” and Jim smiled fondly to himself as he pushed away from the bar. 

Returning to the camper, Jim decided to drive back towards Tucson, but rather than go back to their motel room, the concept of a night spent in the quiet of the desert was more appealing. He would really have preferred to drive straight on to the reservation and bundle his Guide into the van, but he knew Blair needed this opportunity to reacquaint himself with an important part of his past, knowing instinctively that the future of their partnership and the form it would take depended very much on the outcome. 

Having settled on his course of action, Jim smiled widely as he drove away from Tombstone, calmer and more focussed than he could ever recall knowing that the possibility of real happiness was there for the taking if he had the courage to do so.  


\-------------------------  


**Later that night on a deserted stretch of road:**  


At around the same time as Jim was making himself comfortable for the night in the spot he had chosen to park up, and Blair had settled himself on the warm Indian rug David had provided for him to sit on up on the high ridge of the shaman’s favourite meditation platform, two frightened men bickered as they drove out into the desert in the direction of the reservation. 

Clutching the steering wheel of his ancient Dodge truck, Mike ‘Butch’ Cassidy harangued his passenger unremittingly. The other man looked both angry and guilty, resentful of his friend’s tongue-lashing, but aware that he deserved it. Karl ‘Sundance’ Jeffries had known Butch since boyhood, and they were pretty much inseparable, standing by each other shoulder to shoulder whatever life threw at them. But this time, Karl knew he had gone too far. 

“Jeez, man! What the fuck did you think you were playing at? Just ‘cos she said she liked a bit of rough didn’t mean you had to get so physical! Shit, Karl! If we can’t hide her before Daddy and the law start hunting her, we’re dead meat!” 

“Look, I’m sorry, OK? But I don’t like being laughed at, you know that! And she was a bitch. Rich, for sure, but a real bitch. And I’m just glad we both got a chance to screw her, so there!” and Karl sank down into his seat, pulling his chin in petulantly as he assumed a defensive – and wounded air. 

Sighing in pure irritation, ‘Butch’ considered their options, whilst thinking back over the evening’s events. 

Mike and Karl had grown up together as the sons of ranch hands on a large mid-western cattle spread. Not being particularly intellectual, they were both enamoured of the cowboy lifestyle, in particular, the rodeo circuit. Lacking the expertise to join the ranks of the top rodeo stars, yet they were happy to follow the shows, working at whatever menial tasks were required as they became an accepted part of the whole culture and generally satisfied with their lowly status. 

Since they lacked the stars’ pulling power as far as hopeful groupies were concerned, they had no problem with trying their luck with those girls too unprepossessing to have any chance of tempting their bronco or bull-riding heroes into the sack. Hell, a lay was a lay, and if they could share the bounty, so much the better. ‘All for one and one for all’ and all that. 

So they couldn’t believe their luck when tonight a real class act almost literally fell into their laps. 

Chrissie-May Parker was the teenage daughter of a successful businessman-turned-dude rancher. Wealthy, pretty and spoilt, the blonde was also a champion barrel-race rider, and a favourite on the rodeo circuit. And she was also an incorrigible flirt. 

However, on this particular night, she was also upset and angry at the world. Angry enough to put herself into a very dangerous situation even if she was too arrogant to see it. 

She had been severely aggravated on several accounts, the final straw being the angry words exchanged by her and her bull-rider boyfriend at the bar after the show. Already seething with self-pity after her Daddy had threatened to curtail her allowance if she didn’t pull her act together and stop her over-indulgence at the after-show parties, she had been beaten into second place by her arch rival in today’s barrel race final. Unwilling to put up with her whining and venomous comments, her boyfriend had left her at the bar, nursing her beer and her bad temper, ripe and eager for something to make them all sit up and take notice. 

When ‘Butch’ and ‘Sundance’ moved up to sit beside her, rather than sneer at them or ignore them as was her usual response, she actually treated them to her most alluring grin, intending to play them to the hilt. After all, she was familiar with their existence on the fringes of the rodeo circuit, and in her semi-drunken haze thought they were actually kind of cute in a plebeian sort of way....  


\-------------------------  


What happened next was almost inevitable. Growing more and more inebriated, and thus more and more aggrieved, Chrissie-May had led the two young men on, suggestively and deliberately goading them into taking her to one of the more secluded barns on the nearby showground where she dared them to have sex with her in one of the empty stalls. 

Fully believing that her privileged status gave her the upper hand, she graciously allowed ‘Butch’ to have sex with her, only to find it less than mind-blowing. Angry, and still unsatisfied, she then turned her nose up at the rather less attractive ‘Sundance’. Assuming her most dismissive tone, she drawled, “No way, Karl! I’ve had enough now, and I feel sick. Take me back to the hotel, now! I don’t want you pawing at me as well, OK?” and she sat up, pulling her shirt together before reaching down to pull up her jeans and underwear. 

Unfortunately, Karl was having none of her teasing, and as Butch looked on, initially amused, he pushed her down forcibly once again into the bed of straw. “What’d you mean, no? Whatever my friend gets, so do I! So open your legs for me, darlin’, or you’ll wish you’d never been born! I can make it good for you, or I can make it rough. Your choice!” and he tore open her shirt again and gripped her breasts hard, forcing his tongue down her throat. When he pulled away, she screamed and cursed, struggling maniacally against his hold in fear and outrage, so he moved his hands up to her throat instead. 

“Shut up, bitch! Shut up!” he snarled. “Butch, check there’s no one around! I’m having this bitch whether she likes it or not!” and he back-handed her viciously before yanking her jeans back down and thrusting into her in one violent stroke. Riding her hard, his fury grew in proportion to her muffled cries and weakening struggles such that by the time he came with a roar, he took several seconds to register that she was now silent and unmoving beneath him. 

Coming back to himself, he saw his own hands still gripping her throat, and a frightened and guilty glance at his friend confirmed his worst fears. Butch was on his ass and leaning against the side of the stall, white and shocked at what he had witnessed. 

“What the fuck have you done, you moron? You killed her! And now I suppose you expect me to help you get out of this mess? Shit, Karl! I don’t believe this...! Give me a moment. I have to get my head round this...” 

Belatedly realising he would be considered an accessory to murder, simply because he had failed to try and prevent it happening, Butch forced himself to get to grips with the situation. He tried not to think about how much he’d actually enjoyed the scene playing out in front of him, because that would make him as sick as Karl, wouldn’t it? Quickly grabbing a thick horse blanket draped over the stall side, he threw it at Karl, snarling, “Here, you dumbshit! Wrap her in this, then follow me to the truck. We’ve got to get out of here, right now. We’ll drive out into the desert and find someplace to dump her where she won’t be found. Not until there’s so little left of her that the cops won’t be able to tie us to her disappearance. Critters’ll get her pretty soon, so by the time the show’s back on the road, we should be in the clear.” 

Sneaking furtively out to the truck, they had thrown the blanket-wrapped body into the truckbed and covered it with a tarp before driving away from the area, carefully avoiding the busier roads until Butch headed out into the desert, deliberately seeking out and finding the lesser-known tracks.  


\------------------------------  


So now here they were, far enough away from the town for Butch to start looking around for places to stash the body. At least the full moon meant they had pretty good visibility, so they made the most of it. 

“What about over there?” Karl muttered, pointing towards a scrub-filled gully cutting deeply into the desert floor. “If we toss her in there, she’ll never be found unless a flash-flood washes her bones out. Saves us having to bury her, huh?” 

“First decent idea you’ve had all day,” muttered Butch irritably. “I’ll pull over, and we can have a look. Sooner we get rid of the bitch, the better!” 

Pulling off the dirt track into a slight hollow beside the gully, he killed the lights and reached for the powerful flashlight in the glovebox. 

“OK, Karl. I’m going to check it out, and if I flash twice, then you grab the body and come join me, OK?” 

Climbing down from the cab, he switched on the flashlight and carefully approached the water-worn ravine, wary of the potential danger from night-time predators. Reaching the lip of the gully, he shone the bright beam down into the depths, and nodded his satisfaction. It would do – certainly better than trying to bury the body anyway. He flashed the beam twice, and squatted down; waiting for Karl to carry Chrissie-May’s mortal remains to what they fervently hoped would be her last resting place. 

Unfortunately for them, they weren’t the only ones in the vicinity after all, and concerned eyes had already picked up their stealthy activities.  


\-------------------------------  


**Earlier that night, on the shaman’s meditation platform:**  


David rose gracefully to his feet from where he had been sitting opposite Blair, a small fire gradually dying down between them. Placing his hand on the seated man’s head in gentle benediction, he murmured, “It is time, Young Wolf. You have listened well, and you have heeded my words, so now it is time for you to try and put them to use. I shall go now, but shall continue to watch over you in spirit, and I shall hear you if you call. 

“May the Spirits guide you, and may your true path be revealed to you tonight,” and he moved silently away, striding down from the plateau, his moon-lit shadow flitting behind him as he went. 

Blair watched him go, and for a second was tempted to run after him, shaken by a flash of anxiety; not so much because he was physically alone, but because for a moment he doubted his ability to try the vision quest without guidance. Then he shook himself slightly, berating himself for his lack of confidence yet again. Hadn’t David said he was ready? That he had learned enough to take this next step? Then that was what he must do. If he was to learn the truth about his role as Guide and shaman to his Sentinel, there must be no more holding back, even if what was revealed was that he had failed Jim and himself, and he had to accept whatever the consequences might be. 

Breathing deeply for a few minutes, he sought his centre, and relaxed his posture into the easy lotus position he normally used for meditation, sinking quickly into the calm and soothing state of mind he was accustomed to find. However, this time he pushed further, deeper into the realms of his consciousness, actively encouraging whatever visions awaited him to show themselves to him. 

And it worked. 

Suddenly he emerged from the shadows of his mind into the blue-tinted jungle he had only once before visited to his knowledge; a vague memory of the moment when in the form of his wolf spirit he had answered Jim’s pleas and had run joyfully back to merge with the black jaguar in a flash of light and understanding. Deliberately avoiding dark thoughts of the disappointing aftermath, he determinedly engaged his inherent optimism and looked around him eagerly. 

_Cool! I’m in Jim’s dreamscape!_ he thought. _It’s beautiful! Wish I could have something like this – or share this one. I don’t understand why Jim should hate it so much...._

“He doesn’t really hate it, Young Wolf. He has simply failed to embrace the benefits of walking the spirit plane!” 

Whipping round, startled at the voice from behind, Blair saw the smiling figure of Incacha studying him with amused and gentle eyes. 

“Oh man, you frightened me! I didn’t hear you approach. And how come I can understand you so well? My Quechua is pretty basic!” 

“Always the questions, Young Wolf! But this is no bad thing. It is your enquiring mind and stubborn determination that has helped you survive your trials thus far, and that will help you achieve your goal. And if all is as it should be, once you and Enqueri are fully bonded, you will both enjoy the experience of this place whenever you need it. Language is no barrier here, young shaman. 

“But first you should meet your spirit guide properly. He has guarded you for many years, and it is time you saw him for yourself,” and he glanced over to Blair’s right and made a beckoning motion with his hand. 

Out of the undergrowth came the most beautiful wolf Blair had ever seen. Large, and silver-grey, his eyes were the same stunning blue as Blair’s own, and the lupine grin advertised his pleasure in being properly introduced to his human at last. 

It didn’t even occur to Blair to be afraid, and he squatted down and held his arms open to welcome the animal. “Oh, man! You’re beautiful!” he breathed. “Are you really mine? Oh, this is sooo great!” And he laughed in delight as the huge beast almost fell into his arms and began to lick his face with a very realistic wet tongue. 

Incacha waited patiently for long moments while the pair got acquainted; a fond expression on his face. However, there was much to do, and little time to achieve it, so reluctantly he approached and squeezed Blair’s shoulder to gain his attention. 

“Come, Young Wolf. You will have years to get to know your spirit guide now your eyes have been opened, but I have to tell you that you cannot stay here this time. Rest assured that you were right to come here, and your bonding is assured, as Enqueri now knows his own mind at last. 

“But as your friend the Night Owl has already warned you, there is one last obstacle to overcome which could yet thwart you and even endanger you if you ignore it. Or if one or both of you fails to respond to the challenge. 

“So, go now, Young Wolf. Face your last trial; overcome, and bond with your Sentinel. And if the gods will it, you will both return here as a true Sentinel and Guide pair to set this old shaman’s mind finally at rest.” 

And before Blair could utter a word of response, the jungle faded and he was once more sitting on the desert plateau, chilled now and somewhat disorientated, although his eyes shone with joy and excitement. 

_Oh man! What a rush! That was so much more than I expected – but too short. What did Incacha mean? And David also for that matter? Can’t wait to tell Jim all about this. He’s sure to have some idea of what they’re talking about. Gods, I hope they’re right about the bonding...._ and he gazed around him, hardly daring to believe what he had been told. 

Just then he became aware of headlights far below him, which turned off abruptly as whatever vehicle it was came to a halt out of his line of sight behind a rocky outcrop. Puzzled, he waited impatiently for further signs of movement, wondering if he should climb down and check out what was going on. However, he didn’t want to get there too soon in case it was simply a couple of love-birds looking for a little privacy. 

Something didn’t feel right, though, and he got to his feet as the beam of a flashlight cut the darkness of the distant gully’s depths and in the moonlight Blair could make out a figure apparently checking out the area surrounding the gully’s rim. Reacting on instinct, Blair began to climb carefully down from his platform, the slope relatively easy to negotiate on account of the bright moonlight, and on reaching the base; he headed stealthily towards the relatively open stretch of ground between him and the shadowy ravine. 

As he approached, trying hard to make out what was going on in the distance near the gully’s edge, just in case he was inadvertently encroaching on some folks’ innocent activity, Karl staggered over to where Butch was squatting, the blanket-covered corpse over his shoulder. Dumping his burden unceremoniously on the ground, he muttered, “OK, shall I tip her in?” only to be silenced by Butch’s upraised hand. “Quiet!” his friend hissed. “Thought I heard something! I’m sure someone’s coming”, and he flicked off the flashlight and indicated to Karl that he duck down behind one of the scattered piles of rocks and scrub that dotted the edges of the gorge at intervals. Swiftly choosing different locations, they crept into the shadows, where they waited with bated breath as Blair approached, his stride faltering as he spotted the blanket-wrapped bundle before him. 

By now Blair had had far too much experience of crime scenes during his years with Cascade PD not to recognise the signs, and he was sickeningly sure what lay before him. Although he could no longer see or hear the other figures, he was well aware that he was unarmed and vulnerable if the perps were still around. Slowing his steps even more, he cast around for signs that he was being observed before approaching further. However, he was momentarily distracted by the sudden squawk and flurry of wings as a roosting bird was roused unceremoniously from its sleep at Karl’s intrusion, and in that moment, Butch leapt from his hiding place and brought the flashlight down hard on Blair’s unprotected skull. Stunned but not yet fully unconscious, Blair fell to the ground, a small part of his mind chiding him for his carelessness. When Karl roughly turned him over, his groggy and fragmented thoughts were of David and Incacha’s warnings, and he was morbidly certain he had failed at the last obstacle after all. _Oh Jim, so sorry, man...._

“What’ll we do with him, Butch? Chuck him down the gulley with the bitch?” Karl babbled nervously. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s all we can do. Even if he’s not dead yet, he soon will be, and the critters can feed on him as well as her. And if we’re really lucky, if they’re ever found, the cops’ll think he killed her and fell in after her by accident!” and Butch snickered uneasily at his own twisted suggestion. 

Studying the pale face before him, Karl sniggered lecherously. “Hey, Butch, you know what? He’s even prettier than the bitch! Can I do him before we toss him over?” 

“Shit, Karl! Are you crazy??” snarled Butch. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to watch while you fuck some dead guy! You’re sick, you know that? And I’m telling you, man. I don’t care how long we’ve known each other, I don’t know you now! And when we get back to Tucson, you can find another ride! I’m done with you.” 

Stunned at his friend’s declaration, Karl was about to respond when a low growl cut through the night air. Spinning round, he backed away quickly, whispering urgently, “Move, Butch! Look over there! Biggest fuckin’ wolf I ever seen! Let’s get out of here! Let him eat the suckers!” and he turned on his heel and ran for the truck, knowing that Butch was hot on his heels. 

As the truck roared off into the night, Blair’s last conscious thoughts were of the wolf. His wolf, come to guard him until help arrived. _Hey, boy,_...And on that thought, he slid into welcome darkness, knowing he was safe.  


\---------------------------  


**Part 4: Bumps in the road:**  


Even as Butch and Karl were making their way back to Tucson, Jim was fighting to escape his sleeping bag in the camper’s small bunk, angry and desperately frightened for his Guide. Having fallen asleep quite quickly, the nagging unease he had been feeling regarding Blair had suddenly become a full-blown threat as he emerged into the blue jungle of his visions. Dressed in his usual attire for these occasions, in camo pants, boots and paint, he stopped short at the sight of Incacha and another figure in Native American traditional dress, who turned as one to greet him. Realising instinctively that the second figure must be David Night Owl, he strode towards them, almost vibrating with tension and his urgent need to find out what was happening to his Guide. 

“Incacha! Where is he? What can you tell me? Gods, I shouldn’t have let him go off without me! I should have been with him!” 

“Yes, you should have, Enqueri. It is true that if you had accompanied him and remained to watch over him during his vision quest, it is unlikely that any harm would have come to him. 

“But the Young Wolf was determined to attempt the spirit walk anyway, because he wants to understand once and for all what he needs to do to become your true bond-mate. He is not entirely alone, however. The Night Owl watches him from afar, and we have sent his spirit guide to guard him until help arrives. Come, sit. We will watch together and you will see what transpires. 

“And then you must go to him. 

“Sit!” and Jim could do nothing but obey, grinding his teeth together in fury and impatience as their shared dream-walk revealed the whole episode to him, culminating in the appearance of the wolf, who now lay closely pressed against Blair’s side, both keeping him warm and on the alert for danger. 

“I must go. Thank you for sending help, Incacha, and thank you for watching over him, David Night Owl. But he needs me, and I need him, now more than ever.” 

Quickly gripping Jim’s arm to prevent him turning away immediately, Incacha murmured, “Yes, go now and find him on the earthly plane. But you will need to use your gifts to protect him in the aftermath of this trial, and then you will return here. And it is to be hoped that your return will be as bonded mate to the Young Wolf. The time for waiting has passed.” 

And as the jungle faded from view, Jim struggled out of his bunk, snatching up his clothes and quickly setting off in the direction of the reservation, his Sentinel instincts guiding him unerringly towards the spot where his friend lay as he pushed the aging camper van to its limits.  


\------------------------------  


At the same time back in his small cabin, David Night Owl leapt to his feet, already knowing that Enqueri was on his way, but needing to get to Blair immediately since Jim still had a distance to travel. Striding swiftly across the village to the local Sheriff’s Office, he pushed open the door with little ceremony, addressing the Deputy who was on night duty. 

“Come with me, Windsong! The Young Wolf who was visiting with me has been attacked and is lying beside the gorge on the western approach road. We must hurry!” 

Such was the respect that David Night Owl commanded in the tribe, the middle-aged Deputy rose without question and preceded David from the office. “We’ll take the unit,” he said, opening the door of an official SUV used by the tribes’ police force, and as soon as David was seated, set off in a cloud of dust, headlights cutting through the shadows cast by the bright moonlight until they emerged from the pueblo into the open range. 

As they drove, David described what he had seen whilst watching over Blair from his cabin, and once again Windsong knew better than to question the shaman’s words. However, he also knew that whatever the tribal police believed, the white man’s law would require concrete evidence, not simply the word of a native holy man on a spirit walk. Calling up the Sheriff as he drove, he explained the situation, and also asked for the doctor to be alerted, since Night Owl had told him of Blair’s injuries. He also requested the coroner to deal with the other, as yet unknown, victim. 

Like his deputy, Ben Stalking Bear had no problem believing the shaman’s words, and hurried to dress, assuring Deputy Windsong that he would get to the spot as quickly as possible, and would bring Doc Middleton with him.  


\--------------------------------  


On arriving at the scene, Windsong pulled up as close to the gorge’s lip as possible without compromising unnecessarily any forensic evidence such as footprints and tyre tracks. However, both men swiftly approached the two figures lying on the open ground, and David exchanged a knowing and grateful look with the wolf before the spirit animal faded from sight, cognisant that his companion was completely unaware of the creature’s presence. 

Kneeling next to Blair, David carefully rested his hand on the young man’s forehead, while the other searched for the pulse point in his neck. Smiling gently in relief, he murmured, “The Young Wolf will be well. His heart is strong, and he breathes freely. He will undoubtedly have pain when he awakens, but now he rests peacefully. No doubt the doctor will need to watch over him for a day or two while he recovers, but hopefully he shouldn’t need to be taken to the white man’s hospital in Tucson. He will rest easier within our midst.” 

“That’s good news, David,” replied the Deputy with a half-smile, which disappeared quickly as he continued soberly. “But this one is certainly dead, and she did not die easily”, and he flicked his flashlight on before carefully peeling back the corner of the blanket to reveal the pale face above a neck ringed with vicious bruising. The expression of sheer terror and pain frozen on the pretty features bore witness to Windsong’s observation. 

“When Sheriff Stalking Bear arrives, if Doc Middleton agrees, we will take the young one back to the clinic to await his partner. I’m thinking that there’ll be quite a crowd here before too long once word gets around, and he is better off out of the way.” 

Nodding his agreement, David looked up as a second and third vehicle approached, carrying the Sherriff closely followed by the doctor. “I think you’re right, Windsong. The sooner we can get the Young Wolf back to the pueblo, the better.”  


\-------------------------  


Pulling up close to the Deputy’s vehicle, Stalking Bear quickly climbed down and approached the group, his gait and impressive bulk appropriate for his name. Nodding briefly to the two men, he squatted down beside the girl’s body, leaving room for the doctor to tend to the unconscious Blair. 

“The way she’s dressed makes me think she’s one of the rodeo gals,” he opined. “Her clothes look expensive but practical, so I’m thinking she’s probably a competitor rather than a hanger-on or some cowboy’s arm candy. I won’t touch her, though, because the coroner’s on his way, and we won’t get any thanks from his crime scene techs for contaminating the evidence any more than necessary. Dare say the detectives from Tucson PD and the State Troopers will be here soon also, trying to muscle in on the action,” he continued with a derisory snort. “But if they think they can over-ride my authority, they can think again! My reservation, my jurisdiction!” and he nodded decisively. 

As he spoke, Doc Middleton conducted a brief but thorough exam of Blair, his demeanour calm but focussed. Although not one of the people, Ian Middleton had met and married the Sherriff’s daughter whilst at medical school, and had set up his practice on the reservation, creating a small but well-equipped clinic in the pueblo. Carefully examining the growing knot and scalp wound on the back of Blair’s head, he concurred conditionally with David’s opinion. 

“This seems to be his only injury, but it was quite a blow. Whatever was used must have had a sharp edge to cause the scalp wound, but on a superficial exam I’d say that there’s no sign of fracturing. I can take an X-ray to confirm that, so I’ll get him back to the clinic for now. As long as he regains consciousness soon and doesn’t have any complications necessitating a CT scan or more intensive care, he’ll be in good hands with Beth looking after him,” he finished with a small smile, referring to his wife, who was a qualified nurse. 

“OK, doc” replied the Sheriff. “Sounds like a plan to me. We’ll get him loaded on the stretcher and you can drive him back to the clinic with David. Windsong and I’ll wait here for the hordes to descend,” and he smiled grimly at his own words.  


\---------------------------------  


By the time Jim approached the scene, it was a veritable hive of activity with various cruisers, SUV’s and a coroner’s van within reasonable proximity to the road and the taped-off area surrounding the actual body dump. Despite the still bright moonlight, the area was ablaze with temporary auxiliary lighting, and within the immediate area, the coroner had just finished his examination. Senses on full alert, Jim heard him give the OK for the body to be bagged and removed allowing the crime scene investigators to start their search for forensic evidence. Automatically extending his senses even further to catalogue as many details as possible regarding the condition of the victim’s corpse for future reference, Jim spent a valuable minute or so in concentrated effort before continuing on his way, although he was careful not to over-extend without his Guide’s backup. 

Jim’s senses had informed him immediately that Blair was no longer at the scene, for which he was grateful, particularly in view of the ill-tempered discussion presently taking place amongst the collection of police personnel gathered beyond the restrictive tapes. With no interest in local police politics, and simply focussed on gaining information about his Guide, Jim strode up to the arguing group, briefly flashing the shield he had automatically grabbed before leaving the camper, his sheer physical presence and determination enough to discourage any attempt to hinder his progress. 

“I understand my partner, Blair Sandburg, has been injured. I need to know where he’s been taken, and how he is. Can anyone tell me?” and he fixed the group with an all-encompassing glance, his cold eyes and grim demeanour demanding an answer. When all heads turned to face him, expressions varying from simple curiosity, irritation through to outright suspicion, he focussed on the imposing figure wearing the local Sheriff’s uniform, instantly relegating the others to the fringes of his attention. 

Jim had already noted with reluctant approval how the big man remained calm and unflustered despite the angry demands thrown at him by two irate, self-important and be-suited individuals, presumably Tucson detectives; his confident attitude and stoic expression reminiscent of an immoveable rock against which waves heedlessly and constantly battered. Addressing him directly, Jim repeated his request, saying, “Sheriff. My name is Detective Jim Ellison, Cascade PD. I need to see my partner, Blair Sandburg. Can you tell me where he is, and how badly he was hurt?” 

Ignoring the others for the moment, the two men sized each other up, each instinctively realising that they had either met their match, or perhaps a kindred spirit, depending on the outcome of their meeting under such difficult circumstances. Jim was impressed by the Sheriff’s height and bulk, not running to fat despite the onset of middle age, but even more so by the air of controlled power contained in the solid frame. The broad, patrician features were stern and grim at present, the dark eyes shrewd and inquisitive as the man subjected Jim to a thorough inspection. However, Jim sensed no overt aggression directed towards him; simply a healthy interest in who he was and what he had to say. 

As for Stalking Bear, although his impassive face gave nothing away, he was equally impressed by the buff and handsome man before him, who held and matched his gaze with an unflinching and frank one of his own. The Sheriff knew instinctively that there was something special about this individual, and having been told already by David Night Owl of Ellison’s relationship with Sandburg, he had no difficulty in discerning the Watchman within. 

Unwilling to get involved in any further confrontations at this point, the uniformed officers in the group, a couple of State Troopers and a CSI, melted away into the background as the two big men continued to study each other. 

However, their mutual inspection was interrupted by the older of the two detectives, who interposed himself aggressively between them; face tight with anger and blatant suspicion. 

“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing here? Did you have anything to do with this? Because if not, how come you turned up so quickly? And just who is this Sandburg character to you?” 

Containing his own anger and impatience with difficulty, Jim faced the man, eyes glacial and granite-featured as he repeated pedantically as if to a dull-witted child. “The name’s Ellison. Detective James Ellison, Cascade PD Major Crimes Unit. Blair Sandburg is my partner. We’re on extended leave from the department doing some travelling, and Blair took the opportunity of visiting an old friend on the reservation while I visited Tombstone. When I heard about the incident, I came straight here. Now,” he continued, turning back to the Sheriff, “Can I see Blair?” 

He knew that his brief explanation had more holes in it than a colander, but he was desperate to see his Guide, so he reacted instinctively when he was distracted again. Not to be ignored, the detective reached out to grasp Jim’s bicep, intending to pull the man back round to face him. Despite his slightly impaired mobility, Jim whipped around with the speed and agility of the big cat that was his spirit animal; fixing the astonished man with a feral glare such that he stepped back, momentarily diverted from his intended interrogation. 

However, his younger partner, either braver than he looked or simply unimaginative depending on one’s viewpoint, interjected. “But who told you? How _could_ you know if you weren’t involved?” 

“A little bird told me”, Jim replied, his exasperated expression belying his flippant words even as he spotted the sardonic lift of the Sheriff’s eyebrow on his otherwise expressionless face, indicating that he had caught the reference to Night Owl’s spirit message even if the other detectives were at a loss. 

Ignoring the aggrieved spluttering of the two detectives, Stalking Bear spoke up, his words directed at Jim and his deep voice compelling and decisive. 

“Detective Ellison. Glad you could get here so quickly. I’ve had Mr Sandburg transported up to the pueblo where Doc Middleton is treating him at the clinic and David Night Owl is watching over him. If you care to follow Deputy Windsong here, he’ll take you up there, and I’ll join you later once I’ve done here.” 

Shrugging off the plaintive, “Now wait just a minute...,” aimed at their departing backs, Jim nodded his thanks to the Sheriff and followed Windsong to his SUV. While the deputy waited for Jim to collect the camper van to follow him to the clinic, Stalking Bear turned back to the furious detectives, voice still calm, but undeniably authoritative. 

“These men are known to me, and wherever the crime may have been committed, since the body dump is on reservation land, the preliminary investigation for this site falls under my jurisdiction. Now you’re more than welcome to follow me to my office, and we can continue our discussion there. I’m sure Detective Ellison will be happy to cooperate once he has seen for himself that his partner is going to be OK”. And with that, he turned abruptly on his heel and strode towards his vehicle without a backward glance, knowing that the other men had no option but to comply with his request sooner or later.  


\-------------------------------  


**Meanwhile, at Doc Middleton’s clinic:**  


As David Night Owl looked on, Ian Middleton studied the X-ray images on the office wall in front of him, a look of satisfaction on his blunt and pleasant features. Running his hand through his mop of thick mid-brown hair, he glanced over at his silent companion, happy to share his professional opinion to corroborate the older shaman’s instinctive understanding of Sandburg’s condition. 

As soon as Blair had been brought in to the clinic, Middleton had had Beth prepare the portable X-ray machine. However, on this occasion he had operated the equipment himself, on account of his wife being several months pregnant with their first child, and there was no way either of them would risk any damage to the baby. 

Throughout all this activity, Blair remained unconscious, but Middleton was guardedly hopeful as he explained to David. “As I’d hoped, there’s no sign of serious injury here, not even a hairline fracture, as far as I can tell,” he began, pointing to the various images of Blair’s skull. “So all being well, as long as there’s no internal bleeding or swelling of the brain, Mr Sandburg should be fine in time, although he’ll have the headache from Hell, and doubtless a concussion also. If he doesn’t show signs of regaining consciousness fairly soon though, I’ll have to have him transported to a hospital in Tucson, as I don’t have the facilities or the expertise here to deal with complications. Let’s just hope that it doesn’t come to that, because I’ve no doubt that the cops will be all over him the moment he wakes up, wanting to interview him.” 

David nodded gravely at the doctor’s words. “It is to be hoped that he will wake soon,” he concurred. “His Watchman will be arriving shortly, and will be worried for his Shaman. But the white man’s police have no notion of the significance of their pairing and will be looking for answers – and a plausible suspect if they can find one!” 

Dr Middleton nodded in understanding. Although once he might have been sceptical himself at the concept of a Watchman with hyper sensitivity, his years of marriage to Beth, and living and working with her people had opened his mind to tribal lore, and he readily accepted Night Owl’s words. 

“Is it really likely that they’ll suspect your young friend? I mean, to me he’s simply a victim – collateral damage in a horrible situation.” 

“The mere fact that he was found on the scene will be enough to implicate him,” David replied gravely, “But I’m certain the facts will quickly disabuse the police of that notion. 

“If only they could be convinced of the abilities of the Watchman and utilise them to aid them...,” and he shook his head, a wry half-grin quirking his lips. “But the white man’s law relies on facts. Black and white, with no shades of grey to blur it,” and the two men shared a sardonic glance.  


\-------------------------  


Out in the tiny, three bed ward, Beth removed the blood pressure cuff from her patient’s arm and wrote down the readings on his chart. Having finished taking his vitals, she now prepared to clean and suture the wound in his scalp, knowing that Ian had complete faith in her ability to undertake the minor treatment without his interference. 

On arrival at the clinic, with Ian’s help Beth had undressed the young man down to his boxers, slipping his arms into a backless hospital gown before his X-rays were taken. Although the scalp wound was relatively small, like all such injuries, it had bled copiously, and the back of Blair’s old flannel overshirt had been soaked, as had the tee underneath. Carefully moving aside and securing his abundant curls out of the way, she was glad that he would only have to sacrifice a few locks to her scissors, and that small area would be hidden by the rest of his hair anyhow until it grew back. Her smile was gentle as she worked, relieved that the young shaman had survived the attack and hopeful that he would be persuaded to stay a while with the tribe. It was many years since they had had a Watchman and his Shaman guide in their midst. 

As she neatly sutured the cut, she recalled what she knew of the young man, having met him before. 

Blair was only a year or so older than Beth, and she remembered his arrival on the reservation with his vivacious red-haired mother Naomi. The woman had been told of David Night Owl’s position and esteem as shaman to the tribe, and she had come to learn from his wisdom as part of her endless quest for spiritual enlightenment and love. Beth’s smile widened as she pictured the young son, all wild curls and over-sized glasses, but she particularly remembered his beautiful smile, his bright-eyed enthusiasm for each new experience, and his kindness and friendliness towards her. They had quickly become pals, and she had taken him with her to many of her favourite places, where they had played and enjoyed each other’s company when they weren’t attending the small tribal school. 

Blair had been way ahead of all the other pupils, even those in the upper class, but he never flaunted his intelligence, happy to help anyone who asked, and to share his knowledge. His sunny nature and ability to observe and absorb local customs with ease meant that he generally managed to avoid provoking antagonism amongst his classmates even though he was an outsider. He definitely earned respect when David Night Owl made a point of taking him under his wing, having immediately recognised a spiritual quality within the child, and wanting to nurture it. 

And Blair had soaked up everything the shaman had taught him, particularly enraptured when David described the Watchmen of old, who, along with their Shaman companions, were so treasured for their contribution towards the welfare of the tribe. Small wonder that he had gone on to study Sentinels later in life, his interest re-ignited by his discovery of Burton’s manuscript, and how devastating that he should have had to deny his life’s work in the face of a cynical, disbelieving but nevertheless thrill-seeking public and media. 

Because she was not alone when, having witnessed the distraught young man’s press conference, she knew that he was no fraud. His only falsehood lay in denying his work, and it had shocked Beth and her friends on the reservation that his Watchman had apparently let him do so, and on national television at that. 

Not for the first time was she grateful for being a member of a people who had no problem with believing in such natural phenomena. 

Finishing her task and covering the area with gauze and a bandage around his head to secure it, she made Blair comfortable, but paused to stroke his brow with a gentle hand before tidying away her tray of instruments and soiled dressings. Despite the beard stubble starkly contrasting with his pale skin, he looked so young and peaceful in his sleep, and she wished that he had never left the reservation. If he had stayed to learn from David Night Owl, she fancied that he would never have had to contend with such public humiliation and he would have become a valued member of the tribe just as her husband had. 

But then again, maybe he wouldn’t have found his Watchman either; and perhaps everything had happened as it was meant to. It wasn’t Beth’s place to question destiny, but once again she found herself resenting Naomi’s adamant denial of David’s hopes and claims regarding her son, and her hurried departure on account of it. The woman had her own reasons, for sure, but Beth couldn’t help but think that she didn’t necessarily have Blair’s welfare at heart when she left. 

Or maybe Beth was just being unnecessarily judgemental. 

With a sigh, she withdrew her hand and picked up her tray, knowing that David would want to watch over his erstwhile pupil as he slept.  


\--------------------------  


Shortly afterwards, Jim arrived at the clinic, and Beth showed him into the ward while Deputy Windsong conferred quietly with Doc Middleton. As Jim quickly crossed to Blair’s bedside, he exchanged a nod and glance of silent gratitude with David Night Owl, who rose quietly to vacate the chair at the head of the bed. As Night Owl and Beth withdrew from the room to leave Sentinel and Guide in peace to reconnect, Beth couldn’t help but note the look of raw longing and love on Jim’s face as he took his Guide’s cold hand in both of his. Perhaps she had been too quick to judge him also after all. 

But Jim was going to have to do quite a bit more than that to convince her that her old friend truly did belong at his side. 

As Jim gazed into his Guide’s peaceful face, he concentrated on scanning the other man thoroughly with his senses, aware of but unconcerned with anything going on outside the clean and bright little ward for the time being. Blair’s heartbeat was steady and strong, his breathing clear, and his unique scent was easily detectable despite the overtones of blood, antiseptic and sweat. Reaching up to tuck a stray curl that had escaped the bandage around the younger man’s head behind a small ear, Jim noticed that the nurse had removed Blair’s hoop earrings, and the jewellery lay on the nightstand along with Blair’s cellphone, watch and wallet. 

Smiling gently, Jim touched the small piercings in the soft lobe, glad that Blair had taken to wearing the ornaments again once they had set out on their trip, realising without the need to question that his Guide was trying to re-establish his self-identity after too many months subsuming his very essence in Jim’s needs and those of the PD. 

_Oh Chief,_ he thought. _You lost so much of yourself, didn’t you? And all because of your loyalty to me. And I told you I didn’t trust you! I’m an idiot, Blair, and so sorry, and for the life of me, I can’t remember whether I’ve actually said the words even if everything seems better between us now. But I love you, Junior. I’m **in love** with you. But you need to wake up so I can tell you properly_ , and he was faintly surprised to feel a few tears sliding down his face. 

Suddenly needing more contact than just Blair’s hand, Jim carefully slid his free hand beneath the edges of the hospital gown, and ran his palm sentinel-softly over the smooth skin of Blair’s belly. After a few moments, he slid his hand upward through silky chest hair to rest over the younger man’s heart, revelling in the reassuring sound of the rhythmic beating as well as touch and sight as he gazed upon the sleeping face. His sense of smell was satisfied as he breathed deeply of Blair’s warm scent, and he finally treated himself to the full set as he bent forwards and brushed the lightest of kisses against the lush and relaxed lips. Taking the tiniest of licks, he pulled back, stunned at the sweetness of the soft skin, and knowing that he wanted more – so much more – if he could ever convince Blair of his genuine intentions and hard-won understanding. 

Speaking aloud now, but in low tones for Blair’s ears alone, he said, “Hey, Junior, time to wake up. Let me see those pretty blue eyes, Blair. You have to stop scaring me like this, sweetheart. I thought the whole point of taking this trip was to get you away from the PD and the dangers of working with me. Seems like you really are the ‘trouble magnet’ Simon says you are, huh? So I should have listened to my instincts and stuck with you instead of going off to Tombstone on my own. Some Blessed Protector, huh? But then, you saved me long before I saved you, Blair. 

“Come on, baby. Wake up for me...,” and he stared longingly at the still-slumbering face. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, willing his partner to open his eyes, but just as a muffled background commotion announced the entry of Sheriff Stalking Bear into the doctor’s office, Jim took a sharp breath as he saw the tiniest flicker of movement beneath the closed lids. Leaning forward, he rubbed his hand just a little more firmly over Blair’s chest, while he squeezed the smaller hand still clasped in the other. 

Unconcerned with the fact that he had an audience watching inquisitively from the doorway of Ian’s office, Jim spoke again. “That’s it, Chief. You’re nearly there, babe. Come back to me,” and he was rewarded by the faintest flash of blue from beneath fluttering lids. 

Licking dry lips, Blair coughed slightly to clear his throat before speaking, his words when they finally emerged rough and scratchy, but music to Jim’s ears anyway. 

“Hey, Jim. Good to see you, man. Sorry about this, though. Just can’t seem to mind my own business..,” and his lips stretched in a wry grimace for a moment as he squeezed his eyes shut again against the pain thundering in his skull. 

A huge grin of relief lighting his face, Jim responded by quickly withdrawing his hand from beneath Blair’s gown so he could cup the younger man’s cheek. “Hey, Chief! Thank the gods; you’re going to be OK. But you have to lighten up on yourself, babe. It’s in your nature to help, but next time, make sure I’m with you, OK?” and he rubbed his thumb carefully over the delicate skin beneath Blair’s eyes, trying to offer comfort. 

“Sound advice, Big Guy,” murmured Blair, unconsciously turning into Jim’s touch much to the older man’s satisfaction. He rested a few moments longer before cracking an eye open again to study Jim, a slight frown furrowing his brow. 

“Um, Jim? Much as I hate to distract you, um...Did I hear you right or was I dreaming?” he asked, his voice coloured by uncertainty. 

Although blushing a little at the question, Jim met his gaze directly and replied softly, “Why, Chief? What did you think you heard?” 

Blair swallowed hard, unconvinced that he should pursue the topic, but then hardened his resolve. _Where better to broach a subject that might provoke physical retaliation than in a hospital?_ he thought facetiously, and carefully opened both eyes to gauge Jim’s reaction. 

“Um, well, since when have you called me ‘Sweetheart’ or ‘baby’, man? I mean, don’t get me wrong – I’m not upset. Far from it, in fact. 

“But does it mean what I hope it does?” and his voice tailed off as his confidence faltered and died at Jim’s instant frown. 

However, the next moment the older man’s face broke out into the most amazing, shy smile Blair had ever seen – at least, directed at him personally – and he allowed a cautious hope to blossom in his heart. 

“Let’s just say that this old reprobate has finally come to his senses – no pun intended, Chief – and I’m finally ready to take that trip with you. The whole way, if the offer’s still open, babe.” 

And a tremulous but blinding smile lit Blair’s face despite his pain, and he wasn’t in the least embarrassed at the tears that spilled over from the corners of his shining eyes to trickle down towards his ears. 

“Oh yeah. Oh yeah, Jim! Come on in, lover. The water’s still fine,” and he reached up a trembling hand to cup Jim’s cheek, his action mimicking that of his soon-to-be bonded Sentinel, and a look of mutual promise and commitment flashed between them even as a discreet cough was heard from behind them. 

While Jim and Blair had been reconnecting, Doc Middleton had been doing his best to restrain his impatience, his professional training demanding that he examine his patient as soon as he had become aware that the young man had finally woken. However, as with the others crowding in his office doorway, he found himself loath to butt into what was plainly a poignant and intimate interaction between Sentinel and Guide – or Watchman and Shaman – and he was prepared to allow them a few moments of privacy. 

Nevertheless, he needed to check on Sandburg, so he steeled himself for a possible altercation with the protective Ellison, and approached with caution. 

As Jim turned away to glance impatiently over at the intrusion, a soft moan had him whipping back around again, expression immediately becoming one of worry and fear as he catalogued the distressing change in his Guide. Although much of his pain had been held at bay by the golden moments of their emotionally-charged exchange, the breaking of their concentration brought reality crashing back with a vengeance for Blair. Paling dramatically as he was assaulted anew by the agony reaching a crescendo in his head, Blair sank back in his pillows, weak, shaking and nauseous and very close to passing out again. 

As Beth bustled over to join them, Middleton stepped around Jim to the bedside, instantly taking command of the situation despite Jim’s almost feral growl. 

“It’s OK, Detective Ellison,” he murmured, all his attention focussed on his patient. “This is only to be expected. It’s how Blair would normally react on awakening after a blow like that. I suspect that it’s only the pleasure of seeing you that has diverted him for a few minutes. Let Beth and I make him comfortable and give him something for the pain...,” and he gently but forcefully pushed Jim aside. 

Common sense and reason winning out where the feral Sentinel within demanded that he throw the intruder away from his Guide, Jim stepped back with reluctance and let them work, their actions smooth and coordinated as befitting the professional carers they were. Sympathetic to Jim’s anxiety, Ian took the trouble to explain what he was doing as he worked, his no-nonsense descriptions delivered in a calm and confident tone intended to allay Jim’s fears as he continued to watch. Although Jim had had army medical training in the distant past, and wasn’t completely ignorant of the procedures used, he appreciated Middleton’s thoughtfulness in including him anyway. 

Although the nature of Blair’s injury meant that the doctor was limited in what he could offer in terms of painkillers, he was able to administer some basic medication which gradually helped ease the worst of the agony and allowed Blair to relax again into a natural, healing sleep. As he drifted off, once again as warm and comfortable as they could make him, Doc Middleton nodded to Beth and they moved quietly away. 

“You can sit with Blair for as long as you want, Detective, but I doubt he’ll wake again for a few hours, so if you need to speak to the Sheriff, now would be a good time. I know that David Night Owl will be only too pleased to take over the watch for you.” 

Nodding distractedly, his attention focussed once more on Blair’s sleeping face, Jim muttered, “Yeah, OK. Thanks doctor. Give me a few minutes then I’ll see what’s wanted. Oh, and call me Jim...,” and he flicked a tired grin over his shoulder before turning back immediately, not waiting for a response. Taking Blair’s hand again, he resumed his contemplation of his Guide, oblivious to Beth and Ian’s quiet departure as they left the pair in peace once more. 

A short while later, once he was assured that Blair was truly deeply and peacefully out for the count, Jim rose to his feet and made his way over to where the Sheriff waited patiently, his demeanour rigidly under control again. 

“Thanks for your patience, sir,” he said, game face firmly back in place. “I guess it’ll be a while yet until Sandburg’s up to making a statement, but I’m happy to tell you what I can if David will watch Blair for me? I don’t want him to be alone right now.” 

Nodding briskly, the stern-featured shaman clapped a comforting hand on Jim’s shoulder, offering the briefest of smiles as he replied. “It is no trouble, Watchman. I am happy to stay at the Young Wolf’s side until you return. Although I am sure you will be aware of the exact moment if he stirs!” and he chuckled quietly before resuming his natural sobriety. 

Too tired and wired to ponder overmuch on the older man’s words, Jim simply nodded his thanks, and turned to follow Stalking Bear across the street to the Sheriff’s Office, wanting nothing more than to get the formalities over with so he could get back to Blair.  


\----------------------------  


**Part 5: Road Repairs:**  


**Early the following morning:**  


Jim shifted uneasily in the chair beside Blair’s bed, his muscles aching from being cramped for too long in the uncomfortable seated position, and his back and stiff leg crying out for him to lie down and stretch out for a while on one of the nearby beds. However, as long as Blair remained here, Jim resolved to stay at his side and on watch until such time as his Guide could safely be released from the clinic. He had managed to catch a couple of hours’ worth of catnaps during the remainder of the night after returning from the Sheriff’s Office, but with Ian Middleton coming in periodically to wake Sandburg in view of his concussion, Jim felt exhausted, tetchy and grimy. Having said that, he was grateful that Blair slept on, despite rousing briefly when required; sinking quickly back into a deep and healing slumber much to Doc Middleton’s satisfaction. 

Standing awkwardly, Jim stretched his arms above his head and rolled his shoulders before taking a turn around the small ward to wake himself up a little, his mind active despite his physical fatigue. 

He replayed the short interview with the Sheriff, during which he had come to the conclusion that he and Blair had, if not an actual ally yet, at least someone who wasn’t fazed at the introduction of somewhat out-of–the-ordinary evidence. Indeed, Stalking Bear had encouraged Jim to describe exactly what he had observed in the short time he was present at the scene, although, like Jim, he was well aware that other law enforcement officers’ credulity was likely to be stretched to breaking point. But that in itself would be dependent on whether Jim was prepared to come clean about his senses; something which only he could decide when the time came. 

Jim knew that he wasn’t looking forward at all to the upcoming interview with the Tucson detectives as and when they made their appearance, but that didn’t stop him from being determined to do or say whatever was necessary to ensure that Blair didn’t remain a suspect. And the cop in him wanted very much to help solve the mystery of whoever had committed such a brutal murder. If Blair was still very much the anthropologist despite his estrangement from formal academia, Jim realised that he was still very much the cop, and he was suddenly struck by a frisson of anxiety as to what his future held if that was no longer an option. Now that he had committed himself to his Guide at long last, he would do whatever he could to cement their partnership even if it meant giving up Cascade and the MCU for good. 

Then again, being Blair, Jim also knew that the younger man would never ask that of him directly, having always asserted that such a choice of profession was natural for a Sentinel hard-wired to protect the tribe. 

So perhaps there was some other way in which both their needs would be satisfied? 

Too tired to continue with his internal debate, Jim decided that it could wait until Blair was well again and out of trouble, and they had the time and energy to plan their life choices from now on.  


\------------------------------  


Just then, Jim was distracted by the arrival of Beth carrying a large mug of fragrant coffee which she held out to him. The pretty nurse looked reasonably refreshed, having been sent home to catch a few hours in bed while her husband shouldered the responsibility of checking on his patient during the remainder of the night. 

“Here you go, Detective Ellison. I think you could do with this. Did you manage to get any sleep at all?” 

Smiling warmly in appreciation, Jim took the offered mug and breathed in deeply, savouring the aroma. “You are a life-saver, Mrs Middleton, and the name’s Jim,” he murmured. “And yes, I did catch a few minutes’ nap here and there. But I’m thinking that my days of sitting on hospital chairs all night without repercussions are long over!” and he chuckled ruefully as he rolled his shoulders again. Taking a sip of the coffee and finding it to be as good as it smelled, he quickly finished the beverage and put the mug down on the nightstand. 

Head slightly on one side as she regarded him speculatively, Beth replied, “Then you must call me Beth, Jim. And my husband’s Ian. 

“I’m going to be busy with Blair for a while, and will be taking his vitals and such in a few minutes, so why don’t you grab the opportunity to freshen up in the bathroom over there? David Night Owl took the liberty of getting you a change of clothes from your camper and left them in Ian’s office. I hope that’s OK?” 

Jim’s smile widened further at her words. “Sounds wonderful, Beth. I’ll certainly take you up on that. Thank you. And I’ll thank David for his consideration when I see him next!” 

Pausing to smooth his hand carefully over Blair’s curls as his Guide slept on, Jim smiled a little wistfully as he murmured; “Now you behave for the pretty lady, Blair. Back in a few,” and with a quick grin at Beth, he strode over to the office to retrieve his clean clothes before heading to the adjoining bathroom to take a much-needed shower.  


\---------------------------------  


Jim emerged from the bathroom feeling 100% better. Although unable to shave, the shower and change of clothing had raised his spirits enormously, but not as much as the fact that he had heard Blair waking up, this time without intentional prompting. 

Hurrying over to his friend’s bedside where Beth was just finishing tucking in the sheets, he dropped into the chair and grasped Blair’s hand, his free hand automatically cupping the younger man’s cheek. 

“Hey, Sleepyhead,” he murmured, a soft and loving smile lighting his face. “It’s great to see you wake on your own without prodding, baby,” and he shared a brief grin with Beth who snickered softly at his words. 

“How’re you feeling, Chief?” 

Tired blue eyes met his, still dulled with pain, but much more lucid than Jim had expected. 

“’M OK, man. Um, well, not really,” Blair corrected as he winced from a bolt of pain that shot through his skull. “Still feel like I was hit by a Mack truck, but at least I don’t feel so sick any more. 

“But everything hurts, man,” he whispered, wincing again. “And I feel grungy...” 

Beth gently squeezed his shoulder, drawing his attention to her. “Don’t worry, Blair. We can soon do something about that. I’ll call Ian and he can give you something for the pain. And once you’ve had a little something to eat and drink, I’m sure that between us we can get you a bit more clean and comfortable, OK? Back in a jiff,” and she smiled warmly before hurrying purposefully away. 

During the few minutes that elapsed before she returned with the doctor in tow, Jim and Blair took comfort in each others’ presence, Jim offering silent support and comfort as he carefully rubbed gentle circles over Blair’s temples, temporarily soothing the other man’s headache better than any prescribed medicine. 

Nevertheless, Jim knew that his Guide would need more than just his input, so he offered Ian Middleton a welcoming smile when the doctor arrived at the bedside. 

To be honest, the doctor looked pretty rough around the edges himself; having foregone his night’s sleep, but his answering grin was one of genuine relief and pleasure for all that. 

“Hey, Blair, good to see you awake and aware! I know you’ll still be in a lot of pain, but I can give you something for that,” and he nodded to Beth who held out a couple of pills and a cup of water. 

“Don’t worry,” he continued, already having been brought up to speed on Blair’s normal dislike for ingesting unnecessary chemicals. 

“These are just high-strength painkillers, which should act pretty quickly, OK?” 

And for once Blair was in too much discomfort to argue, and swallowed the tablets without complaint. 

“Now, you’ll probably sleep again as soon as you’ve had a bite to eat and Beth and Jim have tidied you up some, but that’s no bad thing. Bed rest is the best thing for you right now, and for the next 24 hours at least. But if you continue to improve at this rate, I’ll let you out sometime late tomorrow, OK? As long as Jim is looking after you, and you have no intentions of travelling on just yet, that is,” he added warningly. 

Somewhat surprised at how drowsy he was feeling again, Blair simply nodded compliantly, his headache already subsiding as the medication kicked in. 

“Thanks, doc,” he whispered. “I appreciate it, man. And Beth,” he continued, eyes tracking slowly but determinedly to meet her gaze. 

“I know you, don’t I?” he muttered with a tired grin. “Be good to catch up when I’m not half asleep.” Then his eyes sought out Jim’s, and he squeezed the larger hand clasping his. 

“Looking better, Big Guy, but not sure about the whiskers.” 

“Hey Junior, they’re not a patch on yours!” and Jim chuckled, rubbing his thumb over Blair’s be-stubbled chin. 

“But if you’re a good boy and eat a bit of breakfast Beth and me’ll get you cleaned up, deal?” 

“Deal, man!” Blair responded with a brief flash of real enthusiasm and they all shared a moment of relieved laughter.  


\---------------------------  


Around an hour or so later, Blair was asleep again, but looking much better for all that. He had managed to eat a small amount of oatmeal, and drunk a good-sized glass of apple juice, after which Jim had helped him to the bathroom to take care of business. He was still too unsteady to shower, however, despite his wistful puppy dog glances towards the shower cubicle, but an indulgently smiling Jim treated him to a bed bath with Beth’s help. She even produced one of Ian’s safety razors so Jim could rid his Guide of his unwanted beard stubble, promising to do the same for himself as soon as Blair was comfortable again. There wasn’t much they could do about Blair’s hair especially as he couldn’t get his dressings wet, so the younger man was resigned to putting up with it for a while longer even though Jim did his best to remove the worst of the dried blood by carefully dabbing individual locks with a damp facecloth. By the time he was clean, comfortable and tucked up in bed again, his drooping eyes had closed, and he was once again sound asleep. 

Jim helped Beth tidy away the washing supplies, then treated himself to the luxury of a shave, only to emerge hurriedly from the bathroom when sentinel hearing picked up raised voices carrying from the street outside the clinic. Gritting his teeth, Jim knew that the short respite was over, and that he and Blair were about to be drawn into the investigation again whether they liked it or not. 

Sure enough, the outside door was thrown open, and Jim looked over towards the doctor’s office, already knowing that the group comprised of the doctor himself, Sheriff Stalking Bear and the same two detectives from the previous night. Automatically placing himself between his sleeping partner’s bed and the doorway, Jim crossed his arms over his chest, and spread his feet a little, instinctively adopting a protective stance as his eyes became glacial and his features hardened into his most intimidating glare. 

Ready to do battle on Blair’s behalf, Jim was gratified to hear Doc Middleton’s voice, low but firm and unbending as he spoke up for his patient in defiance of the Tucson detectives’ demands. 

“For God’s sake, man, Mr Sandburg is in no condition to give you a statement yet! It’s been barely ten hours since he was clubbed and left for dead! He may have been lucky enough to escape serious injury, but he’s still barely able to keep his eyes open for more than a few minutes at a time, and I will not have you trying to browbeat him in this condition! You’ll just have to wait!” 

“Now see here...,” another voice responded heatedly, only for Stalking Bear’s unforced yet resolute tones to over-ride it, backing up the doctor’s decision. 

“The doc’s right, gentlemen, and his word is law in this clinic. You’ll have to curb your impatience as far as Mr Sandburg is concerned. However, I’m sure his partner, Detective Ellison, won’t mind speaking with you. You’ve seen the report of his interview with me last night, and I know he’ll be only too happy to help you out, especially if it keeps you off Sandburg’s back. I’ll go and get him, then we can go back to my office and carry on this discussion over there.” Once again his stance brooked no argument, and he pushed open the door to the ward and strode towards Jim, meeting the other’s frowning gaze steadily, the faintest of grins quirking his lips. 

In deference to the sleeping young man in the bed behind, the Sheriff kept his voice low as he addressed Jim. “I see you’re already aware of what’s going on, so if you’ll come with us, we’ll leave the young shaman in peace for a while longer. He’s in good hands with the doc and Beth, and I’m certain the question of his involvement or otherwise will soon be settled, but I’m hoping you’ll be able to help with the investigation anyway. I have every faith in your gifts, even if they need convincing,” and his head jerked towards the open doorway around which two frowning faces peered. “How about it?” 

Allowing himself the slightest of answering grins, Jim nodded his approval. “OK, sir. I don’t have a problem with that, and if it keeps them away from Blair, then I’m all for it. Let’s go,” and he glanced fondly at his slumbering Guide before accompanying the Sheriff from the ward.  


\------------------------------  


**Sheriff’s Office, shortly afterwards:**  


The short walk to the Sheriff’s office was completed in silence, although for Jim the seething emotions emanating from the two Tucson detectives were almost palpable. They both looked rumpled and un-shaven, clearly having pulled an all-nighter, and consequently their tempers appeared to be barely under control. On arrival, the detectives scowled to find David Night Owl already seated unobtrusively in the corner, unperturbed and relaxed, but sharp eyes missing nothing. His serene gaze met Jim’s and he offered a small nod of acknowledgement before turning his attention back to the visiting lawmen. 

Stalking Bear automatically indicated the chair next to his, and Jim seated himself, aware and appreciative of the Sheriff’s tacit support. The two visiting detectives took the seats opposite, casting irritated glances at David Night Owl, and clearly conscious of the Sheriff’s motivation and preferences as per the seating arrangements, but unable to do anything about it. This was the Sheriff’s home turf, and they were barely tolerated here. At a nod from his senior partner, the younger of the two pulled a file from his satchel and handed it to his colleague, plainly ill-at-ease as the other began to flick deliberately through it. Jim recognised the delaying tactic, knowing that the detectives needed a little time to regroup in order to try and reassert their credibility, and was prepared to allow them a little leeway as long as it eventually worked in his favour. 

Finally, the older detective looked up to meet Jim’s quizzical gaze, apparently ready to begin the interview. 

Plainly trying to keep a lid on his aggression, he sighed heavily as he looked around the table, encompassing everyone present as he said, “First off, for the record, and for the benefit of those who don’t already know, I’m Detective Drew Anders, Tucson PD Serious Crimes Unit, and this is my partner, Detective Gerry Samuels. We’ve been assigned this case because the vic turns out to be the daughter of Robert S Parker Jr.” At Jim’s questioning look, he explained, “Parker’s a big deal around here. Made a fortune on Wall Street, then decided he wanted a complete change of scene. So he set himself up as a dude rancher on a big spread in the valley. Guess he has delusions of being another John Chisum – or John Wayne,” he added, tone dry as his face twisted briefly in a derisive sneer. 

“Anyhow, he reported his daughter, Chrissie-May, missing late last night when she didn’t come home from some party or other after the day’s events at the rodeo. She was a champion barrel-race rider, but spoiled as all get out apparently, according to her friends and rivals. She was last seen at a bar in the company of two guys well-known on the circuit as general hands and hangers-on, but they deny leaving with her. We questioned them at their trailer before coming here, and they claimed they had been there all night since leaving the bar. Said they weren’t good enough for her, and that she went off to meet with someone else. Who may or may not be your partner...,” and he stared over at Jim, a frown creasing his brow. 

“Thing is, until the autopsy’s done and the forensics guys have finished up, we have to consider the possibility that Sandburg was involved somehow. You can see that, I’m sure.” 

“No, actually I can’t, but then you knew I’d say that,” murmured Jim, holding the other man’s stare. 

“Unless you think Blair arranged to meet Miss Parker and / or these other guys out here. And I can tell you for sure that he didn’t meet them or contact them when he was with me, and I’m equally sure David Night Owl can confirm that Blair was with him all day. And unless he borrowed some wheels from someone else, he had no transport since I had the camper.” 

“But what about the evening?” Anders fired back. “According to your statement, and Night Owl’s, Sandburg went off by himself, intending to stay out all night. Do you really expect any jury to buy the story that he was on some sort of ‘vision quest?’” and he snorted derisively. “Sounds like an ideal opportunity to get up to no good to me!” 

Gritting his teeth so hard that the muscles in his jaw jumped with the strain, Jim controlled himself with difficulty, knowing the man was deliberately trying to get a rise out of him. 

“Fine. OK. If you want to get into all the mystic shit, then you’re in the right place – and company – for it,” he growled. 

“How about telling us what else you’ve learned about me and my partner? Because I can see you’re just dying to ask,” and he fixed Anders with his coldest stare. 

After long moments, Anders broke eye contact first, glance flicking away to his partner before pulling the file towards him again. 

“OK. So this is where everything gets hinky, I guess,” and he sighed heavily, expression aggrieved. 

“As soon as your names came up, our Captain was all over us to get as much information as we could on you, and this is what we came up with. Seems like your story about being on extended leave checks out, and according to your Captain Banks, you’re some sort of cop super-star. Cop of the Year in Cascade for several years running, no less. He also said that whatever you say you’ve seen, to believe you even if it seems far-fetched. 

“Now, I have a problem with being told how I should react, so we dug a bit deeper. And guess what? Gerry here found these old news references to your partner, telling how he lied about some paper he’d written about you, and that you’re no super-star after all. Got himself thrown out of University and all because of it. 

“So, he’s a self-proclaimed cheat and a liar, and you’re still partners? Just how do you explain that, and why are we supposed to believe that your Captain is on board with this? Or have you really got an edge we should know about? You might have convinced the sheriff and his witch-doctor pal here, but I need more proof!” and he sat back in his chair, arms folded, and expression mutinous. 

Although Jim’s instinctive reaction was to leap to his feet and slam the guy against the wall, he clamped down on the urge with difficulty, and paused for a long moment to try and regain some sort of equilibrium before answering. After all, he had been expecting this, and now push came to shove, he knew it was time to come clean. Blair had carried the stigma for far too long, and Jim was finally ready to come out. He would have liked to have been able to orchestrate the moment better, but Blair needed him to be straight with these guys, and suddenly it didn’t seem so hard, particularly as he knew he could rely on the moral support of Stalking Bear and David Night Owl. 

“OK, fine. I’m ready to explain how I know what I know, and give you a practical demonstration too. And then I want in on your investigation. I can help....”  


\---------------------------------  


Some while later, despite their ingrained cynicism, both the Tucson detectives were beginning to be convinced of Jim’s veracity, and that he really did have an ‘edge’. Jim had run through a few basic and familiar exercises to demonstrate his heightened senses, although he was careful not to over-extend himself without Blair’s grounding presence, and he gave no indication of his full range in keeping with his and his Guide’s joint decision. 

From there, he explained what he had learned from his few minutes’ perusal of the body the previous night even from a short distance away, describing in detail what the Tucson cops should look for in the autopsy report. 

“So, you’re saying that the bruises and finger marks on the vic’s neck are from somebody with bigger hands than Sandburg?” Anders mused, trying valiantly to contain his disbelief. “Don’t suppose they’d match yours, by any chance?” he added sarcastically. 

Jim snorted in wry amusement before responding. “Nah, ‘fraid not, although I’m more than happy to provide a demonstration. No, whoever did this had hands even bigger than mine, and was physically fit and strong. That young woman would have been no push-over, for sure, and I smelt no taint of drugs used on her to make her more compliant. Just alcohol; and probably not enough to incapacitate her over much at that.” 

“Now, as far as trace evidence is concerned, I’m sure there’ll be some on Blair’s clothing, such as hairs and fibres and the like, because he either fell or was dragged up against her after he was clubbed. But the only blood I could smell was his. And yes, before you ask, I _can_ distinguish his blood even as I can hear his unique heartbeat in a crowd. He is my Guide – my ‘control’, if you will – and he’s probably the most ethical man I know. And central to my success as a Sentinel. 

“He lied to protect me and my colleagues at Cascade PD. Because I _am_ a Sentinel – or Watchman – and Blair is my Shaman Guide.” 

He stared intently at the two cops, his voice and demeanour projecting nothing but sincerity as he demanded their trust and understanding. He was aware of Night Owl and Stalking Bear’s murmurs and nods of approval, and was deeply appreciative of their support as they lent additional weight to his argument. 

Finally, Anders sighed gustily, his lips thinning wryly as he flicked a glance at his partner. Samuels had remained pretty much silent throughout the interview, but had obviously listened to – and hopefully absorbed – everything that had been said thus far. 

“OK, Gerry. Your turn. What d’you make of all this?” 

With a faintly apologetic glance at Jim, the other man took a deliberate breath before answering, his words measured at first, but gathering speed as his enthusiasm grew. 

“Well, Drew, I have to say that, far-fetched as it sounded at first, I believe Ellison’s claims. Yes, I was sceptical to begin with, for sure, but those demonstrations were pretty impressive and convinced me he wasn’t lying. No way they could have been set up in advance. And if the ME’s examination bears out his claims, then it looks as if Sandburg’s in the clear. 

“But, what I’d like to know,” he continued, directing his words at Jim, “Is _why_ you let this friend / Guide whatever he is, lie for you? From the media reports I pulled off the net, he was ridiculed and kicked out of his job at the university. Lost his right to ride along with you also, according to your Captain Banks. So why would you want to deny a gift like yours anyway? And why’s he still with you? Most folks would have walked out on someone who treated them like that. 

“Hell, most folks would never make that sort of self-sacrifice in the first place! He must really see something special in you, Detective. Either that, or he’s in love with you...,” and his words trailed off as his earnest gaze became more speculative. 

And this time Jim didn’t have it in him to respond aggressively. Every word the other man had spoken was true, and he was done with the whole question of denial and self-interest. 

“Truth? Well, you’re right. And it’s long past time I admitted it. I’m not proud of how I’ve treated Blair, and I sure as hell don’t deserve his loyalty. 

“But the fact remains that I didn’t want these senses, and I was convinced they’d make me into some sort of laughing-stock – or a target for all those bad guys looking to make a name for themselves by bringing me down. I accepted Blair’s offer of help when he found me, but I hated that he wanted to write about me, even anonymously. 

“And when his paper was released accidentally, I was furious with him. Which is why he did the only thing he could to make things right and protect me. He threw himself on his sword, and I let him. 

“And no, I’m certainly not proud of that. But I’m going to make it right. I’ve put it off far too long already, so if my senses can help you find the killer, I’ll use them, and it’ll be up to you how you deal with explaining how I came up with my evidence. I always relied on Blair’s fertile imagination back in Cascade,” he added with a grim smile, recalling one hilarious incident when Blair had claimed that Jim ‘ate a lot of carrots’ to explain his excellent night vision. “For what it’s worth, though, Blair has always insisted that it’s simply a normal genetic variation, so it shouldn’t be hard to convince the DA’s office that it can be accepted in a court of law as long as I’m prepared to be tested and the results recorded officially. As he’s always said, I’m not Superman – or Super-cop. And I haven’t been genetically or artificially engineered in any way. I’m just a guardian benefitting from enhanced senses. Maybe once that fact’s been noted and accepted, then Blair and I can go forward and become the partnership we were meant to be.” 

Silence followed this last impassioned statement, as his listeners digested his comments. Finally, the Tucson cops exchanged a telling glance, and Anders spoke up, all business once again. 

“OK, good. Well then, if it’s all the same to you Ellison - and Sheriff - we’ll collect Sandburg’s clothes for forensics to go over, and we’ll get this show on the road. If you’ll come with us, Detective, we’ll get back to the PD and you can have your statement typed up and signed. We’ll leave Mr Sandburg to rest up a while longer until the doc gives us his OK. You can meet up with the Captain, and if he says it’s a go, then I think another call on those two fairground fellas is in order, and you can give us the benefit of your sense impressions, OK? 

“And I’m thinking that maybe the Captain’ll want you to sit in at the autopsy later on today...,” and so saying, he pulled together his file and stood, smiling slightly in grim satisfaction as the others followed suit, plainly ready to get the joint investigation underway.  


\-----------------------------  


**That evening, The Clinic:**  


Jim sat beside his partner’s bed again, slumped with exhaustion, but exuding a certain air of smug satisfaction for all that. It had been a hell of a long day, but worth it, and he was waiting patiently for Blair to wake up so he could bring the younger man up to speed on the events surrounding the murder investigation so far. 

“Hey, man,” a gentle voice broke into his reverie, and Jim brought his attention back to the sleep-softened face as Blair’s blue eyes fought to focus and meet his smiling gaze. 

“Have you been sitting there long, Big Guy? I’m sorry, man. I don’t think I’ve slept this much in years. Tell me what you’ve been doing?” he pleaded as his hand reached for Jim’s. 

“It’s fine, Chief. I haven’t been back that long, and you still need the rest, although Doc says you’ll become steadily more alert over the next day or so. I’ve got plenty to tell you, though, but do you need anything before I begin – a visit to the bathroom, maybe?” 

Blushing slightly, Blair nodded. “Yeah, Jim. If you don’t mind? Beth said I wasn’t to try it on my own just yet.” 

“Wise woman!” laughed Jim, and helped his Guide to sit up, waiting patiently until Blair was steady enough to stand before wrapping an arm around the younger man’s waist and helping him to shuffle the short distance to the bathroom. 

“Thanks, Jim. I can do the rest myself. But don’t worry. I won’t bolt the door,” Blair chuckled, and went inside to take care of business, determinedly ignoring the persistent ache in his head and the slight accompanying dizziness. He washed his hands and splashed cold water on his face, immediately feeling the better for it. 

Once back in bed, and looking much brighter, Blair fixed his Sentinel with an eager and inquisitive gaze. “Come on, man, tell me all!” 

“OK, Chief. Well, first things first. The Tucson cops came back this morning as Ian probably told you. They wanted to interview you, but I wasn’t going to let that happen if I could avoid it, and Ian wasn’t going to either – doctor’s orders - so they had to make do with me. 

“Anyway, long story short, I told them about the senses. Now don’t worry, babe. I didn’t put myself at any risk of zoning at all, and I didn’t tell them more than we decided was appropriate for a need-to-know situation. But I had to explain how I learned so much from just a few minutes at the body dump, and it was necessary for me to clear up any misapprehension about your honesty at the outset. And the sheriff and David Night Owl were there to back me up, so eventually they believed me, even if they didn’t want to! 

“Anyhow, once I’d convinced them you were one of the good guys, they took me downtown to the PD to have my statement typed up and signed, then we went to see those two rodeo hands again. And believe me, kiddo, they’re as guilty as sin however clever they thought they’ve been in covering their tracks. They’d obviously taken the time to hose down their truck bed, and the cursory ‘unofficial inspection’ I was able to give it suggests that if there was any trace evidence, it’s long gone. They’d also already washed the clothing they wore last night, which although suspiciously out of character judging by the condition of the rest of the trailer and their personal belongings isn’t proof of guilt. And living in the same trailer, of course they’d had plenty of time to get their story straight, and could back each other up. 

“I was able to confirm that I’d smelled both their scents on the vic’s body and clothing, and on yours also, but obviously as the law stands that hardly constituted a valid reason for bringing them in. 

“However, Anders and Samuels, the detectives I was working with, had witness statements from folks who had seen them at the bar, and seen them with Chrissie-May, although no one could confirm seeing them leave together. On the other hand, no one they spoke to ID’d you either, Chief, and you already have an alibi for the early evening in David Night Owl. According to him, he was still with you at around the time the others would have left the bar, so unless you can fly, Chief, it’d be impossible for you to have been at the likely crime scene. 

“Anyhow, the cops reckoned they had enough reason to pull the two guys in for routine questioning at least, and they worked on them separately doing a pretty fair ‘good cop / bad cop’ number while I watched from the observation room and relayed what I picked up from their physical responses to the Captain. 

“And I gotta say Chief; their Captain Winters had far less trouble believing me than Simon ever did!” Jim added with a rueful chuckle. “Although Stalking Bear told me later that Winters has some Native American blood in his veins, so that probably explains it.” 

Jim paused in his recitation to study his Guide for a moment, somewhat surprised to have talked for so long without any evidence of Blair’s normal tendency to interject questions and ideas whenever his nimble brain came up with something he thought relevant. Frowning slightly, Jim noted Blair’s unnatural stillness, and really looked into the wide blue eyes, concerned that the after-effects of his head injury might be troubling him more than he would admit. However, there was no sign of abnormal distraction, and Blair was definitely fully awake and aware. But although the younger man’s expressive features reflected his appreciation, and no little hero-worship, there was sadness too, and shadows of self-doubt lurked in the blue depths. Blair was also worrying his full lower lip – something he was wont to do when upset or distressed. 

“OK, babe. What’s wrong?” Jim asked gently, squeezing the hand he had been holding. 

Blair’s gaze dropped to the clasped hands as his cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment, and when he raised his eyes to Jim’s again, they were full of apology and slightly shiny with barely-controlled emotion. His elevated heartbeat was testament to his rising anxiety, and Jim’s own worry grew in proportion. 

“I’m sorry, Jim. It’s stupid, really. I guess I’m just feeling a bit more emotional than usual. Must be the thump on the head – or too much sleep!” he muttered, grinning slightly and trying for a touch of humour and Sandburgian obfuscation to distract Jim from his inspection. Of course, by now he knew that his partner wouldn’t fall for such weak diversionary tactics unless it suited him, so when Jim cupped his heated face in one hand and waved an admonishing finger in front of his nose, he knew he’s have to explain himself properly. 

Sighing deeply, he visibly shook himself, resigned to confess his misgivings to Jim. They had, after all, long since agreed never again to hide anything from each other, and Jim deserved to hear the whole truth. 

“Thing is, Big Guy, I’m so proud of you,” he began, his expression now projecting nothing but sincerity. “You use your senses so naturally now, and you have so much control. You really seem to have accepted them for the gift that they are, especially during the months we’ve been travelling together, and I’m so grateful to have had a part in it. 

“But despite what I saw during my spirit walk, I can’t believe that you still need me. You haven’t zoned in years. And although I’m incredibly grateful to you for ‘coming out’ to the Tucson PD just so you can help clear my name, I’m so sorry to have been instrumental in forcing you into making that decision. A decision I don’t believe even now that you really wanted to make. You’re still wary of adverse publicity despite coming to terms with your ability, and now you’ll be back in the public eye. 

“I’m so sorry, Jim. I fucked up again. Can you forgive me?” 

Momentarily taken aback by the depth of emotion and self-deprecation in the heart-felt words, Jim had to forcibly re-focus his train of thought in order to reassure his Guide of his worth, even though he would rather continue discussing that particular topic in depth at a later – and more auspicious time. But for now, he needed to find the right words to comfort Blair and lay his immediate fears to rest before he could continue with describing the investigation. Blair had always been good with words; had always needed to hear them; but all too often they had been the means by which Jim had wounded his Guide the most. 

“You know, kiddo, you couldn’t be more wrong,” he began, smiling softly and rubbing the skin on the back of the smaller hand resting beneath his. 

“For a start, whatever you might think, and whatever I might have said in the past, I _do_ still need your guidance and support, babe. Yes, it’s true that I’m finding it almost second nature these days to use my senses; and that in itself is largely thanks to you, your training and your belief in me; but I repeat, I haven’t pushed myself beyond my comfort zone today. I need you with me in order to do that, Chief, and that’s the real truth of it. 

“And you’re wrong in blaming yourself for forcing me to admit to my gift. I was building up to it, I swear, babe. OK, this was a little sooner than I intended, and I admit I’m not ecstatically happy about the circumstances, but I’m not angry either, and certainly not at you. I’d already made up my mind that I‘d have to ‘fess up if we’re to progress this relationship, and it’s past time that I did. That trip’s still on, sweetheart, I promise, just like I said. 

“Anyhow, I also promise that we’re going to talk about this properly, Chief. There’s a lot we need to consider to shape our future together, and I really do want to hear all about your spirit walk, babe, but I want you healthy and stress-free before we do. As stress-free as you can possibly get, that is,” he snickered, gently patting Blair’s cheek. 

“So stop beating yourself up for nothing, babe, and trust me on this OK?” 

And Blair offered him a tremulous but adoring smile, and replied softly, “Oh, I do, Jim. I do trust you. And thank you. I _will_ try to contain my impatience, and I _will_ try not to wimp out on you again, promise. 

“Now, please can you tell me more about the case? I really would like to know....” 

Mightily relieved at Blair’s acceptance, Jim grinned cheerfully and continued enthusiastically with his explanation. 

“OK, where did I get to? Oh yeah. The interviews. Well, Chief, like I said, I was impressed by Anders and Samuel’s team work. They worked on both the guys in turn, starting with Mike Cassidy. He’s definitely the brains of the partnership, relatively speaking, and he seemed pretty confident to begin with. If he’d have stuck to his story or demanded a lawyer, I doubt they’d have had grounds to hold him until the forensic evidence is processed, such as it is. But Anders kept on at him, especially as I was feeding him info on the guy’s physiological reactions to his more leading questions. And once Anders started querying why Cassidy should damage his own case by covering up for a friend who was obviously unstable, he started to come unglued. 

“Anyhow, they left him to stew while they questioned Jeffries, and I got to tell you, babe, that guy’s a real piece of work. Not very bright, but arrogant, over-confident and mean as hell, sure his good buddy’ll keep him out of trouble. Until I mentioned to Anders how big the guy’s hands are, and Anders starts talking about the bruises on the vic’s neck, and how easy it is to match them to a murderer’s hands. And then he hints that Cassidy’s already fingered Jeffries for the actual killing, and the guy went ballistic! 

“Upshot is that Cassidy was singing like a canary to try and cut a deal, while Jeffries was yelling that it was all Cassidy’s idea and that Chrissie-May’s death was an accident. The bitch wanted it rough, so that’s what she got, yadda, yadda. Gotta tell you, babe, by the time I left I was feeling sick to my stomach. Especially when Cassidy said that Jeffries wanted to rape you too before they tipped both of your bodies down the ravine. I swear, if I’d been in that interrogation room, I’d have ripped Jeffries’ head off,” and Jim’s voice tapered off into a feral snarl as he wrestled with his rising fury. 

Forcing himself to calm down, Jim looked ruefully over at Blair, who had begun to rub his arm comfortingly, plainly concerned at his partner’s reaction. 

“S’OK, Chief. I’m not going to blow. It’s just that he was so sick, you know? Not repentant in any way, just livid that his lifelong bud had shopped him. 

“Anyway, things were really jumping at the PD, because not only is the vic’s father a great friend of the Chief of Police and some sort of big deal locally, but as you know the rodeo’s really important for the town’s image and as a major tourist attraction, so the word from on high was that everything had to be processed a.s.a.p. to close the case and limit any adverse publicity. So the forensics lab was told to give the trace evidence top priority, and the autopsy was carried out this afternoon, with yours truly invited to watch. 

“You don’t need to know the details right now, babe, but I think my input was useful. Suffice it to say that she didn’t die easily or quickly. But there was trace evidence on her body, her clothing, and some on yours also, and Anders said he’d come over tomorrow with a copy of the ME’s report as soon as it’s done. 

“I’m confident that it’ll absolve you completely of any complicity, Chief, and will be more than enough to back up Cassidy and Jeffries’ confessions. They’ll definitely be charged, and the attack on you will be added to that of Chrissie-May’s rape and murder. 

“So that’s pretty much the story so far, babe, and I think I’ve pretty much run out of steam here. Haven’t talked so much in a long time,” he huffed, grinning widely at Blair’s cheeky smirk and answering snicker. “I’m going to see if I can freshen up a bit and commandeer one of those beds for a few hours...,” and Blair nodded in whole-hearted agreement.  


\----------------------------------  


**Following morning, The Clinic:**  


Beth pushed open the door to the ward, intent on doing her early morning check up on her patient, only to stop abruptly, a huge grin breaking out as she beheld the sight before her. Quickly turning, she retraced her steps, and beckoned to her husband who had just entered his office, holding a finger up to her lips to indicate quiet. With a bemused expression, Ian obeyed the silent invitation, and joined his wife at the door. As Beth held her hand over her mouth to stifle the fond chuckle threatening to break out at the sight that met their eyes, Ian followed her gaze, and a wide smile of his own brightened his face. 

The previous evening, the exhausted Sentinel had asked for and been quickly granted the use of a spare bed in the ward, but at some point during the night, he had obviously had the urge to modify his accommodations. He was now fitted snugly against his Guide, having climbed into Blair’s bed, and the two slept in a tangle of limbs, plainly comfortable with their situation, and concerned with nothing more than their need to connect at the most physical level. Blair’s face snuggled into Jim’s neck where he had draped himself half over the other man’s broad chest, one leg thrown across Jim’s thighs, and the other tangled with his long limbs. The fingers on the hand resting on Jim’s torso were intertwined with those on one of Jim’s, while Jim’s other arm encircled Blair in a protective hug. 

Exchanging a fond glance with his wife, Doc Middleton stepped back into his office, prepared to wait until the pair woke naturally before interrupting their shared tranquillity. 

The Sentinel had actually heard the stealthy entry, but knowing that it posed no threat to his Guide, he pretended that he was still deeply asleep, wanting to enjoy the cosiness of their situation a little longer and also allow Blair to catch a bit more trouble-free sleep. It had been the onset of a nightmare that had roused Jim during the night, so he had slipped into Blair’s bed, cuddling and soothing the younger man who had relaxed almost immediately without really waking, and Jim had no intention of giving up his Blair-sized comforter until he had to. 

Beth allowed her patient another hour before returning to check on him, by which time Blair was beginning to rouse anyway. Crossing to the bedside, she smiled at Jim, who returned the look, grateful for her thoughtfulness and also her open-minded acceptance of the two men’s intimate position. 

“You look a lot better this morning, Jim,” she said quietly. “You looked pretty much wiped out last night, and I’m not surprised. From what Dad told me, you had a really busy day at the PD yesterday. He’s very pleased with you, you know. I think he had his doubts to begin with, wondering if you were a suitable companion for Blair. And to be honest, I wondered also. I got to know Blair when he stayed here as a kid, and I liked him a lot. We were all disappointed when Naomi took him away from us, especially David. He saw such potential in Blair.” 

“So did Incacha,” Jim replied musingly. “He passed the Way of the Shaman on to Blair when he died, but I didn’t want to believe it. It’s taken me a long time to accept just how important he is to me,” he continued, smiling fondly down at the curly head tucked beneath his chin. 

“But I’m getting there. At long last, I’m getting there!” and he raised his eyes again to meet Beth’s, the ice-blue orbs cool but his expression sincere. 

“Then we can be friends,” Beth replied, her smile deepening. “Anyone who loves the Young Wolf as much as you do is a friend of mine.” 

“’S good,” came a sleepy and muffled response from the region of Jim’s neck. As a bedraggled and still dozy apparition raised its head from its unconventional pillow, Blair added, “Morning, Beth, Jim. You OK?” and he grinned lazily, looking, to Jim’s eyes at least, absolutely adorable. 

“Very much so, Blair,” replied Beth as Jim squeezed him gently. “And you look much better too, young man. And I think you’ll feel even more so once you’ve had a shower and washed your hair, hey?” 

“Oh yeah, I’m down with that!” Blair responded, wide awake now at the thought of getting properly clean. Pushing himself upright, he beamed at both his companions, his expression expectant as they smiled fondly at this evidence of the return of Blair’s health and spirits.  


\--------------------------------  


An hour later saw Blair clean, dressed and tucking in to a breakfast of oatmeal, fresh coffee and fruit. With Jim’s help he had showered and washed his hair, which now hung in a shining, curly halo round his head, pretty much covering the site of his injury where Beth had replaced his dressing with a smaller one. Jim had made the trip to the camper which was now parked in the clinic’s parking lot, and brought them both a change of clothes, and was now enjoying a similar repast thanks to Beth’s generosity. 

Once they had finished their meal, Doc Middleton returned to check on Blair, and professed himself satisfied with the young man’s progress so far. 

“Considering it’s been less than 36 hours since you were attacked, you’re looking remarkably bright, Blair,” he said, head on one side as he studied his patient. 

“Having said that, I can tell you still have a headache, am I right? And I’m afraid that will probably persist for a few more days, as will the occasional slight dizziness. But you can take over-the-counter medication whenever you need it and I’m certain Jim won’t let you overdo it. So you’re free to go, but I want to see you again tomorrow, OK?” 

Smiling widely and assuming an air of vigour greater than he actually felt, Blair replied, “Thanks, doc, and thank you, Beth, for looking after me so well. I’m so grateful to you for bringing me up here rather than shipping me off to a hospital in Tucson, man. As Jim can attest, I really hate hospitals,” and he grinned up at the bigger man, who sniggered in response. 

“You got that right, Junior! But this beats all as far as personalised care and attention is concerned. We’re both grateful,” he said, looking over at Beth and Ian. 

“But I can hear voices out there,” he continued, head tilted in his classic ‘listening’ pose. “The Sheriff’s got visitors, Chief, and it sounds like Drew Anders and Gerry Samuels. Think you’re up to talking to them now?” 

And Blair replied, “Yeah, Jim. If the doc agrees, let’s get this over with....”  


\-----------------------------  


With Ian Middleton’s cautious blessing and Jim’s physical support, Blair made his slightly unsteady way across the main street to the Sheriff’s office where Stalking Bear and the two detectives awaited him. As before, David Night Owl had more or less invited himself to the proceedings, and no one even considered trying to get him to leave. 

Once he had been seated next to the Sheriff, a bottle of water to hand, Blair shot Jim a grateful glance as the big man uncompromisingly sat down at his Guide’s other side, his possessiveness clear for all to see. 

Turning his attention to the others in the room, Blair nodded a friendly greeting to David, once again seated in the corner, then smiled at the Sheriff, recognising him easily from his previous visit many years ago. 

“Sheriff Stalking Bear! Great to see you again, and congratulations on making Sheriff. I remember you as a Deputy, and I have to say you used to scare the pants off me when I was a kid! When Beth said she wanted me to meet her Dad, I’d no idea it was the local lawman she was talking about,” and he chuckled self-consciously. “You know what Naomi’s attitude always was toward ‘the pigs’, and at the time I think I must have taken her seriously! Sorry about that,” and he grinned winningly up at the tall man, who returned his smile. 

“No problem, Young Wolf. I was not offended, and you were never anything but polite to me. And Beth thought the world of you, so who was I to come between you two? And you had David’s mark of approval, so you could do no wrong. 

“I’m glad you decided to return, but sorry about the circumstances surrounding it. I shall look forward to getting to know you properly soon, but meanwhile, I think our visiting detectives need to get on with the interview,” and he quirked a brow in invitation at the two men seated opposite. 

The two cops looked decidedly better this morning, having obviously had the opportunity to freshen up and grab a few hours’ sleep. Any residual tiredness was no doubt held at bay by their relief and satisfaction at having almost certainly solved the case in record time, and they were prepared to allow Sandburg more consideration than they might otherwise have done. Especially as his partner had provided a great deal of assistance during the brief investigation. 

Hands resting on the file on the table in front of him, Drew Anders once again started the ball rolling as his partner looked on, quietly taking in the scene before him. 

“Mr Sandburg. Allow me to introduce myself. Detective Drew Anders, Tucson PD Serious Crimes Unit. And my partner, Detective Gerry Samuels. We appreciate your coming over to talk to us, and as I promised, I have here the forensic and ME’s reports for you both to see once you’ve given us your statement. It’s only fair after all, since a lot of the findings, and the conclusions drawn from them so far are due to a great extent to Detective Ellison’s input.” 

Nodding agreeably, Blair waited until Samuels switched on the miniature recorder on the desk in front of him, and began. He kept his statement as concise and factual as possible, deliberately down-playing the purpose of his lone vigil although some explanation was obviously required. He opted for claiming a need for private meditation as a reason for his presence on the plateau, which was the truth after all, if not the whole truth. He was well aware that, even if the two detectives may be open-minded enough now, others who read the report would be less likely to be, and he didn’t want his words or credibility as a witness to be ignored through incredulity and cynicism. All mention of spirit walks and the appearance of his wolf spirit guide would be kept between him, Jim and David alone for the time being. 

Once he had finished, and Gerry had switched off the recorder, he looked up to meet Anders’ appraising gaze. 

“Thank you, Mr Sandburg,” the other man began. “Succinct and to the point. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” he enquired, not unkindly. 

Blushing slightly, and exchanging a rueful glance with Jim, Blair replied, “Um, yeah, you could say that. All those years of hanging around the PD with Jim taught me a thing or two,” and he chuckled disarmingly as Jim patted his forearm amicably. “I have been known to be a little verbose on occasion. Must be the teacher in me,” and he nudged Jim in the ribs as the other man burst out in unaffected laughter, chortling in glee as he gasped, “What you, Chief? Verbose?” and Blair grinned fondly at him, knowing that no offence was meant, and certainly none taken. 

Watching the exchange with interest, Anders waited until they had gotten themselves back under control, then fixed Blair with a speculative gaze. 

“Yeah, about your time in the PD. If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly did you do there for Detective Ellison? I mean, other than that dissertation cover story. We’ve learned a thing or two this last day or so, but it would be good to get a clear picture.” He exchanged a glance with Gerry before continuing. 

“It’s like this,” and he tapped the files in front of him. “You could say that, before this case, we were pretty cynical about mystical stuff,” and he sent an apologetic look around the room, encompassing all present. “But having seen Detective Ellison in action, well, it’s made believers out of us, and our Captain also, at least as far as enhanced senses are concerned. But I still don’t understand exactly what part you play in this? Detective Ellison talked about needing control, and you being a Guide of sorts. But I’d really like to know more. Just how good are you two when you work together?” 

Blair looked worriedly up at Jim, his uncertainty back in full force. “I’m sorry, Jim. This is up to you entirely. Whatever you want to say, I’ll go along with you. I really don’t want to cause you any more trouble.” 

Jim nodded and smiled fondly, surprised himself at how relaxed he actually felt, despite his resolve and ready words of the previous night. He truly was ready to ‘come out’ fully to these men, and the feeling was liberating. 

“It’s fine, Chief. I’m quite happy to tell all, as they say. And I’m happy for you to do so also. There is more to it than I’ve already told you guys, and yes, I am capable of more than you’ve seen me do, given Blair’s back-up,” and he looked up to meet Anders’ steady look. “I’m prepared to give you a full explanation, but first, can we go through those reports? I think we’d both like to hear what progress has been made before we get into the esoteric stuff, OK? And call us Jim and Blair. I’m not sure how much longer the ‘Detective’ label will be appropriate anyway,” and he grinned reassuringly at Blair’s perplexed glance. 

Nodding agreeably, Anders opened the file and pulled out a couple sheets of printed form. 

“Fair enough, Jim. OK, well, here’s the results of testing the trace evidence we found – which, I should add, was nearly all down to you. Our crime scene techs are pretty good, and so’s the ME, but I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t have found all of this, and we’re not even talking about the olfactory stuff! That’s some nose you have there, my man.” 

“First off, although the suspects had washed their clothes, they didn’t think to clean their boots which they just bagged and hid underneath the trailer, pushed in amongst the other garbage. Guess that’s why you couldn’t smell them, huh?” he added, looking over at Jim. At Jim’s rueful nod, he continued. “When we brought them in for questioning, Dumb and Dumber wore the same boots, so the forensics guys were able to get quite a bit of evidence from the dirt in the treads, and the footprints themselves, which matched ones found at the dump site. There were also bits of straw and faeces – er, basically, horse shit – and we didn’t even have to search for the source. Cassidy was so keen to ingratiate himself that he told us which horse barn they took Chrissie-May to, and the evidence matched what we found there. 

“Anyhow, similar traces were found on Chrissie-May’s clothing, as well as a few stray hairs, which match both Cassidy’s and Jeffries’. And no, there’s nothing of Blair’s on her clothes or body, only a couple of hairs on the horse blanket she was wrapped in. And the only blood was his, just like you said, Jim. 

“As far as DNA’s concerned, even with the rush on, it’ll be a couple more days until the results are confirmed, but if there is any to be had from her clothing or body, I’m thinking that it’s pretty much certain to match the suspects’. 

“Regarding the ME’s report, I got to say he wasn’t pleased to have you foisted on him at first, Jim, but he certainly appreciated your input later. He said you picked up on all the trace evidence far quicker than he would have been able to – made his job a lot easier! ‘Course, he didn’t say what we were all thinking – that he might have missed some if he was working on his own!” and Anders chuckled snidely at his own comment. 

“As you know, the suspects used condoms, so there was no semen present, but the vaginal bruising suggests that they weren’t too gentle with her. Of course, that also tends to bear out Jeffries’ claim that she liked it rough, but that’s no excuse for the excessive force even if she was into sexual asphyxiation. And as you already predicted Jim, the bruising and finger marks matches Jeffries’ hands perfectly. 

“So, gentlemen, it looks pretty much like a slam-dunk, and probably one of the quickest arrests we’ve ever made, thanks to you. Cassidy and Jeffries are both in custody, and will appear in court tomorrow for arraignment. It goes without saying that you’ll probably be called as a witness in due course, Blair, but for now as far as we’re concerned, you’re off the hook.” 

Blair offered a grateful smile as he replied, “Thanks, Detective. It’s a relief to know that I’m not a suspect. I just feel so bad for that poor girl. I mean, Jim and I saw her riding at the rodeo, and she was something else, man! And so young....” 

However, Anders looked concerned when Blair’s words tailed off, and it didn’t take sentinel senses to see that the young man was suffering. Jim had been monitoring him for a while now, and although he knew very well that Blair didn’t like him to fuss, he shook out a couple of painkillers into his hand and pushed them at his Guide, along with the water bottle. 

“Here you go, Chief. Get these down you, and no arguments! You’re head’s hurting, you’re as white as a sheet and your eyes are a bit glazed. I think you’ve had enough for today!” 

“Yeah, sorry, Big Guy. I think you’re right,” Blair murmured, casting an apologetic look over at Drew and Gerry. “Sorry, guys. Could we have a rain check on the Sentinel and Guide discussion? I promise I’ll tell you what you want to know soon, but right now I can barely keep my eyes open,” and he leaned into the supporting arm Jim had thrown around his shoulders. 

With a sympathetic smile, Drew replied, “No problem, Blair. We’ll catch up with you when you’re feeling better, OK? Just you take care, now...Shaman!” and he laughed gently at Blair’s rather shaky double-take. 

“See you around, gentlemen!” and he and Gerry got to their feet and left the office, knowing that Sandburg was in good hands.  


\--------------------------------  


**Epilogue: Journey’s End: One year later:**  


Having finished teaching his classes for the day at the pueblo school, Blair bounced across the street to the Sheriff’s office, humming happily to himself. He had arranged with David Night Owl and a couple of the other parent volunteers to take a group of his older students to the Amerind Museum in two days’ time, and he was really looking forward to the trip, as were the kids. 

Pushing into the office, he grinned widely at the figure seated behind the front desk saying, “Hey, Deputy Windsong! Is the Sheriff in?” 

Offering a tolerant smile in return, the other man replied, “Sure is, Young Wolf! And he’ll be glad to see you, I know! Got a mound of official paperwork wants dealing with, and he sure doesn’t want to have to do it himself!” 

“Huh! Some things never change!” Blair huffed, with a totally unconvincing scowl. 

“Better go see if I can help, I suppose. Later, man!” 

Pushing into the inner office, Blair halted in the doorway for a moment, taking in the sight before him. The big man behind the desk was frowning at a stack of forms, although his expression lightened significantly as he looked up at his visitor. 

“’Bout time you got here, Sandburg,” Sheriff Jim Ellison growled, his gruff tone belied by the twinkle in his eye. “This is right up your street, Prof!” and he pushed the offending pile towards his grinning partner. 

“Oh joy! You’re too kind, Mr Lawman, sir!” and Blair laughed out loud as he ducked the wadded-up ball of paper that came flying at him. 

Plopping down on the spare chair next to Jim’s, Blair pulled the stack of papers towards him, and took his glasses from the breast pocket of his shirt, perching them on his nose as he began to peruse the contents. 

“OK, let’s see what we have here...,” he muttered, already concentrating on the job in hand. 

Leaning back in his seat, a fond and grateful smile on his face, Jim took the opportunity to study his partner, a feeling of warmth and contentment spreading through him as he relaxed in the younger man’s presence. They had come a long way to reach this level of comfort and satisfaction, and Jim was happy to take some time reliving the past few months, and contemplating all that had happened in so short a time. 

Automatically extending his senses, Jim undertook a leisurely scan of his partner, satisfied with his findings. 

Although older, and definitely more worldly-wise, Blair once again looked far more like the enthusiastic ‘energiser bunny’ grad student of their first acquaintance rather than the quiet, troubled and sober man he had become in the months post-Alex and the fountain, and during and immediately after the diss fiasco. His hair was worn loose today; longer than for some years now, and often contained either in braids when necessary or by a bandanna around his forehead as was customary with many of the more traditional members of their adopted tribe. And along with the hoops in his pierced lobe, he had taken to wearing bead necklaces and bracelets again, most of which were gifts or purchased from the local Amerindian artisans. He was also tan, slim and fit, and, best of all, growing progressively more confidant in his abilities both as Shaman to Jim and his tribe, and his own self-worth. 

Aware of Jim’s scrutiny, Blair looked up, expression quizzical as he said, “What’s up, lover? Everything OK?” and he blushed delightfully when Jim simply grinned and replied, “Just enjoying the view, babe. And you should know what’s up...!” he added softly, eyebrow quirking suggestively. 

Blair’s smile widened and his eyes reflected love and desire as he met Jim’s hot gaze. “That’s not the way to help me concentrate on your paperwork, lover. But hold that thought, and I’ll be as quick as I can with this stuff,” and turned his attention back to the pile of forms, snickering at Jim’s low growl of frustration. 

Jim grinned to himself at the thought of promised lovemaking, yet again thanking the fates that he had finally had the courage to take the final step and bond with his Guide. And had discovered that they matched perfectly: bedmates, soulmates, and lovers. He didn’t know whether it was a ‘Jim and Blair’ thing, a Sentinel and Guide thing, or a combination of both, but he knew he had never felt so happy and content with his lot. His only regret was that he hadn’t had the guts to claim his Guide years ago, but as his intuitive lover had said, things happen when they’re supposed to, so perhaps they were meant to undergo their various trials and tribulations as a sort of ‘trial by fire’, cleansing and preparing them for the ultimate reward. 

Not that it had happened immediately, despite their mutual soul-baring while Blair was at the clinic. Not only had they to wait until Blair was recovered fully, but there had been a lot of other life-changing decisions to be made for both of them.  


\--------------------------------  


Having been discharged from the clinic, Blair had needed a place to recuperate, and Jim was well aware that the camper van wasn’t exactly the best option. However, when Blair had more or less collapsed during the interview with the Tucson detectives, Ben Stalking Bear had immediately offered them a room in his house, since he had lost his wife to cancer several years back, and had the space. He had also admitted that he would like the company, so Jim had agreed with thanks, and moved his partner into Ben’s clean and comfortable, if sparsely furnished spare room. 

Since Ben lived next door to his daughter and son-in-law, it was convenient for Ian Middleton to monitor Blair’s recovery, and both Blair and Jim found themselves quickly absorbed into not just Ben’s immediate family, but also into the extended tribal group. 

David Night Owl was a frequent visitor, as he and Ben had grown up together, and he treated Beth like his own daughter. He was more than willing to continue to advise Blair and help him realise his potential as a shaman, and made no secret of the fact that he wanted both Blair and Jim to remain with the tribe as Watchman and Guide. It was just a matter of figuring out how that could be accomplished. 

The first step had been taken when both Jim and Blair had made good their offer to provide Drew, Gerry and their colleagues at the Tucson PD Serious Crimes Unit with a full explanation and practical demonstration of Jim’s Sentinel abilities and Blair’s role as his Guide and backup. Although they had glossed over the mystical aspects to avoid discomfiting their audience unnecessarily, the detectives present, as well as Captain Winters, other key police personnel and legal representatives, professed themselves to be well impressed, especially as Blair had, with Jim’s full approval, diffidently provided them with judiciously abridged copies of his Sentinel notes to study. The result was that within a remarkably short time they were both offered the opportunity to consult officially with the PD on a part-time, case-by-case basis. 

However, although thrilled to be accepted so readily in the light of his previous experiences with police departments, Blair had still been worried about how he could possibly take up the offer even if he wanted to, in view of his press conference and its repercussions. He had voiced his concerns to Jim in bed that night, their relationship still platonic at that point although both men had quickly grown accustomed to the comfort and sense of security offered by their new physical proximity. 

“I don’t know, Jim. I mean, it’s fantastic that the PD accepted us so quickly, and I’m so grateful to you - and happy for you - for finally being comfortable enough to come out and admit to your gifts, especially as I’m sure you’ll be able to put them to use soon enough. But I still don’t see how I can work for them, man. The fraud issue is still there, and just as potent an excuse to bar me from the witness stand as ever. It’s my own fault, I know, but there’s nothing I can do about it.” 

“Well, I’m not so sure about that, Junior,” Jim had replied carefully. “I’ve been thinking about this also, and talked over various options with Ben, Ian and David while you’ve been catching up on your beauty sleep,” and he had ruffled the curly head resting on his chest with affection. “Just hear me out, and see what you think.” 

“The first thing you need to know is that Ben wants me to stand for Sheriff in the reservation police force. He wants to take a more active role on the tribal council, and spend more time with his new grandchild when it arrives, which he hopes will be the first of several. Beth’s all for it, as it means she’ll be able to continue working as Ian’s nurse and partner in the clinic and know that her kids’ll be benefitting from quality time with their Gramps. 

“It also means Ben can take some time to himself; go fishing with David, that sort of thing. 

“And I have to say it appeals to me, babe. I’ve pretty much made up my mind I’ll never return to Cascade PD – probably wouldn’t get passed as fit for active duty again anyhow – but I’m still fit enough for a Sheriff’s role. And let’s face it, Chief. I’ll still be protecting a tribe – just a smaller one, and better still, one which openly appreciates me too!” 

At this point, Blair had roused considerably, and had pushed himself up to gaze wonderingly into Jim’s eyes. 

“Oh man, that’d be so cool! And I’d really like to stay here too. Being Watchman and Shaman for the people here would be a dream come true, man. But what would I do for money? My settlement fund’s all but gone now, and we’ve been living off your savings and the rent from the loft for weeks now. Plus the cash from odd jobs and stuff. I know we don’t need much, Big Guy, but I do need a regular income if we’re to set up house here.” 

“There’re two things I’d like you to consider, babe, both of which should get you some paid employment even if not the salary you would’ve been able to commandeer as a tenured Professor. 

“First is, that Beth suggested you take a position as teacher at the pueblo school. There’s an opening right now, and they just can’t seem to fill it. Mostly she says it’s because it doesn’t pay that much, so applicants, certainly those from outside the rez anyway, only want it as a stop-gap while they find something better. They’d be thrilled if someone with your teaching ability and education would consider it. 

“And the other thing is that I want you to re-submit the diss, Chief. I’m sure the University of Arizona’s anthropology department would consider it, especially if I offer to give them a full demonstration. And explain exactly why you felt you needed to do what you did to protect me and our friends. And despite what happened at Rainier, there are still plenty of people who will testify on your behalf, babe. You know very well that Eli Stoddard told you as much before we hit the road. If you get the doctorate you deserve, your credibility will be re-established, so you don’t have to worry about appearing in court again as an expert witness. What do you say?” 

And for once completely lost for words, Blair had simply pulled himself up level with Jim and touched foreheads reverently before kissing his Sentinel thoroughly for the first time with all the love and gratitude he could muster.  


\-----------------------  


Of course, things hadn’t been quite that simple and straightforward, but events had happened quickly for all that. Blair had been eagerly accepted as the new teacher at the pueblo school, and had immediately approached the anthropology department at the University of Arizona. Armed with the correctly formatted final draft of his dissertation, letters of recommendation from the likes of Dr Eli Stoddard, Captain Winters of the Tucson PD, and Joel Taggart at Cascade PD, and Jim’s unconditional support, he had been interviewed at length, invited to defend and finally awarded his PhD in record time. True, it hadn’t been a done deal by any means, and he had had to face serious criticism for his part in the fiasco in Cascade, but his proven record of achievement plus the fact that two senior faculty members were Native Americans, and predisposed to accept the subject matter anyway helped tip the balance in his favour. And it certainly didn’t hurt that David Night Owl and the other tribal council members had openly declared their support for their newly-adopted Watchman and Shaman. 

The presentation had been quiet and without ceremony, but Blair was perfectly happy with that. All he needed was Jim’s presence, along with a few trusted friends from the council, and the overwhelming relief of knowing that his years of dedicated study had been vindicated at last, leaving him finally free to fully embrace his appointed role, having fought for so long to earn the right to do so. 

And that night, Sentinel and Guide had completed their bond as they celebrated the real start of their new lives together. 

Jim couldn’t help the grin on his face widening as he recalled that momentous occasion, which still both thrilled and awed him.  


\-------------------------  


Still hyped up from the presentation, the newly-minted Dr Sandburg had bounced into their bedroom, his joy and excitement palpable as Jim grabbed him around the waist and swung him around in carefree abandon. Dropping his laughing bundle onto the bed, he soaked up the happiness fairly oozing out of his friend and Guide, his own smile almost as wide as he sat down next to the gorgeously giddy man who immediately reached for him. 

“Oh Jim, man, I’m so happy! I’ve got everything I ever dreamed of, and it’s all down to you. Love you, man. So very much...,” and he had reached up to kiss Jim again, only this time their comfortable enjoyment in each other’s presence seemed to be enhanced to a far greater degree, almost as if Blair’s achievement had removed the final barrier to the consummation of their bond. 

Both wide-eyed in amazement and growing desire, they had reached for one another again, thrilled by the almost electrical buzz of connection that crackled between them. Although they had already indulged in a little leisurely exploration and fondling, their kisses and touches sweetly satisfying, the desire now burning within left them in no doubt that they wanted – needed – the full joining. 

“Please Jim. I want you in me. To feel you in my body as well as my mind and soul. I want you to own me, and I want to own you. Please man!” 

And Jim hadn’t needed asking twice. 

Swiftly stripping them both of their clothing, Jim had thoroughly imprinted the needy body spread out before him, touching, tasting and learning every exquisite inch of flesh, almost losing himself in the sweetness of it. And Blair had reciprocated as much as possible; his moans of desire driving Jim on as he carefully prepared his Guide for penetration. And when Jim finally slid home into the hot and silken depths, both men were abruptly transported into the blue dreamscape of the spirit plane, where two spirit animals once again ran towards each other to merge in a flash of brilliant light and mutual understanding. And this time there would be no fear, no pulling back on the part of the Sentinel. This time they were one as they were always meant to be, and nothing and no one would part them again in this life or the next. 

And when the merge was complete, and both men and their spirit animals relaxed gradually in the blissful aftermath, the smiling form of Incacha appeared before them, hands held out in benediction. 

“You have done well, Young Wolf, as have you, Enqueri. All is now as it should be, and this old Shaman can rest in peace. 

“Live long, love well, and cherish every moment together, Sentinel and Guide,” and the figure faded from sight as Jim and Blair returned to the reality of their bedroom. 

“Oh man! That was transcendental,” breathed Blair, a look compounded of love and awe on his tired but happy face. “I love you so much, my Sentinel. And I’m so glad we lived up to Incacha’s expectations at last. Thank you, Jim,” and he laid a soft kiss on Jim’s chest over his heart. 

“Thank _you_ , my Guide. For having the patience to wait for this old Sentinel to wake up and finally accept the gift of your love. Never alone again, either of us!” and he claimed Blair’s succulent mouth in a gentle but thorough kiss.  


\---------------------------  


Having made the decision to stay and make their home in the pueblo, Jim and Blair had found a cosy cabin a short distance from the village, and not far from David Night Owl’s place. Although Ben Stalking Bear had been in no hurry for his guests to move out, he knew that the two men needed their own space now, especially as they were now together in every sense of the word. And Ben certainly had no problem with that; simply accepting the situation as part and parcel of what a Watchman and Shaman pairing should be. He was equally glad that Jim had accepted his suggestion to run for Sheriff; an appointment that was confirmed with alacrity and no opposition. 

And when Beth was safely delivered of a baby son for him to dote on, Ben knew his life was happier now than he could ever have expected after losing his beloved wife so early. 

Of course, there had been a less agreeable side to Jim and Blair’s new situation, insofar as they had had to return to Cascade for a short time to tie up loose ends there and make their move to Arizona official. 

Waiting patiently while Blair worked diligently on the last couple of forms, a frown crossed Jim’s face as he recalled the less-than-happy trip.  


\--------------------------  


As far as the loft was concerned, Megan had been only too pleased to offer to buy it from Jim at a fair price, having decided to stay in Cascade. She had greeted them both with whole-hearted joy, hugging Blair in particular with unrestrained affection. 

“Bloody good show, Sandy! I’m so glad about the PhD, love. It’s no more than you deserve. And I’m glad that this old fart has finally made an honest man out of you!” she snickered, nudging Jim with a sharp elbow and enjoying his feigned annoyance. 

“But it hasn’t been the same without you guys,” she continued. “Joel’s working his last few weeks before retiring, and H’s got his promotion so he’s transferring to Homicide. Rafe’s staying in MCU, and his wedding to Susan’s still planned for next Spring. 

“But Simon’s been moody lately. Never know when he’s going to throw a tanty,” and a brief but troubled frown crossed her face. “I think he misses you more than he expected, Jim. Sandy also, even if he doesn’t admit it. I think he always believed you’d come back once you’d got the travel bug out of your system. 

“But for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing, and I’m really happy for you both.” 

Her words of warning ringing in their ears, Jim and Blair had visited the MCU, not knowing what to expect. Joel had been there, and he had greeted them as effusively as Megan had, his genuine pleasure in their new situation only too obvious. Handing over the keys to Sweetheart, he had chuckled as he said, “There you go, Jim. She’s safe and well, and running just fine. I’ve given her a regular spin around the block, so she’s good to go. And I’m sure she’ll prefer the climate in Arizona to our wet, cold Cascade!” 

The meeting with Simon had been far more unpleasant, however; a fact that had upset Blair and troubled Jim far more than he’d expected. Simon didn’t seem to be able to get past the fact that Jim had ‘come out’ so soon to the Tucson PD, where he had been so wary and secretive about his senses during his time in MCU. It was almost as if he felt slighted by Jim’s lack of trust, even though Blair had done his best to explain the circumstances surrounding their change of heart. 

And that was another thing. If there was any blame to be pinned anywhere, as far as Simon was concerned, it should be on Blair alone. He as good as asserted that if Blair had never found Jim and finagled his way into the department, Jim would either have learned to control his senses eventually on his own, or repressed them again, and would have continued to enjoy success in his role as Simon’s best detective. 

Despite his concerted effort to keep his cool and face up calmly to Simon’s unwarranted accusations, Blair’s obvious hurt and distress had pushed all Jim’s protective buttons, and he had ended the visit abruptly before it could get any more acrimonious. 

“I’m sorry you think that way, Simon. And I’m sorry if you think I didn’t play straight with you. You’re right in a way, insofar as I wasn’t ready to come out while I was working here. I admit I was scared. Didn’t want that stigma of being seen as a freak of nature hanging over me. And I wasn’t ready to trust Blair the way I should have done. 

“But these past two years travelling with my Guide, getting to know exactly what he means to me, and learning to accept my senses at last for the gift they really are, well, all I can say is that now the time is right, and it wasn’t back then. 

“Come on, Chief. Time to go,” and he’d held his hand out to Blair and pulled the smaller man to his feet, leaving Simon alone with his troubled thoughts, lamenting the end of a friendship he had once cherished.  


\----------------------------  


Returning to the present as Blair completed the final form and signed Jim’s name with a flourish, Jim grinned at his lover, pushing aside the disturbing thoughts his reminiscing had stirred up. 

“Thanks, Chief. I can always rely on you to bail me out when it comes to paperwork. And computer work, if it comes to that. I think you deserve a reward. Got anything in mind, other than some of my renowned spaghetti sauce for dinner?” And his happiness quota ratcheted up another notch as Blair’s lovely features took on a mock-thoughtful expression. 

“Hmmm, spaghetti sauce, huh? Sounds to me like you’re working on a seduction, Sheriff Ellison, sir. Which is a good thing, seeing as I’m quite partial to being seduced,” and he stood up and stretched, deliberately letting his tee ride up to expose his navel, knowing Jim found it a huge turn-on. And when Jim growled at the sight and reached for his teasing lover, Blair quickly avoided his grasp, and with a tantalising wiggle of his ass, fled the office, waving jauntily to Deputy Windsong on his way out. 

Chuckling in amused exasperation, Jim got to his feet, adjusting his pants as he did so, and followed in his fleeing lover’s wake. 

“See you tomorrow, Windsong,” he called, fully aware of the other man’s wide and knowing smile, and also that there was no disgust or derision either implied or intended. 

Exiting the outer office, he spotted his Guide leaning nonchalantly against the wall, a cheeky grin lifting the corners of his full lips. “Going my way, copper?” he murmured in a truly abysmal attempt at a Cockney accent. 

“Yep. You’re nicked, me old son,” Jim replied in an equally bad effort, and they both dissolved in laughter as they turned together to saunter up the street, Jim’s arm wrapped amicably around Blair’s shoulders as they made their way home.  


\---------------------------------  


**That night, out in the desert:**  


Jim and Blair sat side by side up on David’s meditation platform, looking out over the desert. Their silence was companionable, and their postures relaxed and open as they gazed out over a landscape illuminated by the light from a full moon, and a myriad of stars overhead. Even the distant glow of Tucson’s lights did little to mar the sharp clarity, and both men appreciated the peace and tranquillity they shared on this beautiful night. A night of special significance as it marked the one year’s anniversary of their arrival in Arizona. 

Having celebrated over an intimate dinner of Jim’s signature pasta dish, followed by some very satisfying lovemaking and bonding, they had driven out to this spot to complete a perfect evening. 

After a period of quiet contemplation, Jim turned to look at his Guide and lover, admiring how the moonlight picked out the younger man’s beautiful features, and giving him an almost fey quality. 

“Penny for them, babe,” he whispered, finally breaking the silence and meeting Blair’s serene gaze as the smaller man turned to face him. “Not having any regrets, are you?” 

And Blair’s slow smile touched his heart as his lover’s eyes glowed with adoration and understanding, his focus on Jim and Jim alone. 

“No, man. Never. What we have now is so much more than I ever hoped to have. We’re both happy and fulfilled, our new tribe has accepted us unconditionally, and the Tucson PD is happy with our input already. And hopefully they’ll be even happier once I’ve completed my Forensic Anthropology course at the U. 

“And most importantly, I have the Sentinel of my dreams, and the man that I love. What else could I possibly need? Thank you, Jim, for making my life complete,” and he leaned forward to offer his mouth to Jim in a gentle and affirming kiss. 

“Thank _you,_ babe,” Jim replied somewhat breathlessly once they had drawn apart. “Thank you for your patience and perseverance during this journey. It’s truly been quite the ride, and I could never have foreseen just how happy and content I am now. Thank you for letting me take this trip with you.” And Jim threw his arm around Blair’s shoulders, encouraging the smaller man to lean contentedly against him as they turned back to their reflection, safe and secure within the circle of their mutual love.  


**The End.** 66 


End file.
